


Easy Come, Easy Go

by orphan_account



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dubious Consent, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-07 04:06:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12225420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Murphy is the worst excuse for an omega that Bellamy has ever seen. A re-telling of happenings from the first couple seasons in an A/B/O universe. Murphy-centric.





	1. Bellamy

**Author's Note:**

> I have hesitant plans to make this more than one chapter but wanted to make sure it could stand alone just in case because I'm shit at longer stories Things don't happen in the exact same order as the show here, I'm sure you'll notice. I'm also making their stay on the ground longer between events. If I do a chapter 2 it won't be from Bellamy's POV. No MPREG in this world.

He was a stand-up gent, but no one knew his bent  
And all the little bones that he hid in his vent

-Easy Come, Easy Go  
The Decemberists

 

* * *

 

The prisoners of the Sky Box were not allowed suppressants. Once you landed yourself in one it seemed pointless, a waste of resources. Separated, detained, what did it matter if omegas went into heat? If alphas emitted dominant pheromones into the air? They were trapped. Put away in their nice little boxes. Detained where an omega in heat has no fear of being forcefully bred and an alpha in rut was unable to release their anger or frustrations on anybody but themselves.

Because of this, the scent of the alphas and omegas were obvious and distinct upon arrival. There was no cooling off period. No time to figure things out in a rational manner.

They were all teenagers. The most hormonal time of their life. And they were set free to do as they would.

Normally, a human society would be made up of approximately ten percent alphas, thirty percent omegas, and sixty percent betas. This was due to the alpha's need to collect omegas, to create a harem of them. Not something that was usually done anymore, humans had overcome this baser instinct and the dominance of suppressants helped this, but the remnants lay in their genes, and in their numbers.

The 100 did not fit into these nice little numbers. Simply put, omegas were not known for being lawbreakers. The numbers were switched between the alphas and omegas in the camp and that was, well, that was a huge problem.

Bellamy was not one of the 100. Or he shouldn't have been, anyway. He was a stowaway. His body was still full of suppressants. He could smell the omegas, even a beta with a good nose could, but he didn't have this primal urge to claim them necessarily. That said, he also recognized the importance of creating a pack for the sake of dominance. He knew that a hundred kids was too large for a pack to run as one unit. They would have to break off, create separate centers of power in the overall community.

The division came almost immediately. Bellamy barely had time to hug his sister, to make sure she was okay, before Clarke was already claiming her omegas.

Finn was hers before they were even out of the ship. But Jasper and Monty? Well, Jasper was a beta, a nice addition to a pack but not a necessity or a valuable commodity, but Monty was one of the few in the camp. They only had twelve omegas and two were already claimed.

His smell was already on Octavia so she would be fine. She was a beta anyway, nobody would fight for her.

But Bellamy needed to claim some of the omegas immediately, before Clarke or any of the lesser alphas took over. The more omegas you have the more dominant you look. The more dominant the more betas. He needed a large pack for support.

He finds Miller with Atom, already showing interest towards him. Bellamy subtly edges between them. He's no taller than Miller but he's broader and heavier and has the advantage of age. Miller relents without a fight. Smiles at Bellamy, submissive.

Atom is his.

And maybe he can see in Miller a future ally.

Next he gathers Charlotte. She's young, probably hasn't even had her first heat yet, but she's an omega and that's what is important.

Two is good. But three...three would be better. That's how it's supposed to be. Three omegas to one alpha. That's what a normal population supports. Besides, he doesn't want to breed either of these two. They're part of his pack now, there for him to protect and look after, but Atom is too butch for his taste and Charlotte too young.

It's been maybe an hour since the landing. Groups are already forming. He sees no omegas left. They are all taken. Charlotte had been the last unclaimed omega, maybe because they hadn't noticed her smell, weak as it is.

If he can't find an unclaimed one he'll take a claimed one.

He considers Monty briefly. He is a good example of an omega. Small, slim, quiet. And he seems intelligent. Intelligent would be advantageous.

But he doesn't feel like taking on Clarke. She might be short but she has a presence around her.

Finally, Bellamy finds one that fits the bill. He smells wonderful. All omegas smell nice to him, that's just how nature works, but this one smells fabulous. He knows from science class what that means. That they're “genetically compatible.” That is, they would produce great children with great genes and they wouldn't be prone to diseases or early death.

Well, if they could have children. Which they won't be doing anytime soon because this omega is male. No bother, he doesn't plan on reproducing any time soon anyway.

The alpha with him has a smell nearly as weak as Charlotte's. Frankly, Bellamy is surprised an alpha like that would even be able to snag an omega when there was such a short supply of them.

Bellamy goes to stand between them and the other alpha actually goes for him. He gets one punch at him then Bellamy retaliates. The alpha is on the floor, holding his nose.

That was easy.

“You're mine,” he tells the omega.

“Alright,” the omega smiles, not seemingly upset about this turn of events. He has soft looking lips and pretty pale eyes. Not bad at all.

“What's your name?”

“Murphy.”

“I'm Bellamy. This is Atom,” he introduces the other male. “And this is Charlotte.” She waves shyly. “You're going to be my head omega.”

“Alright,” the omega, Murphy, agrees again.

Bellamy breathes heavily out his nose.

Okay, he has three of them. He's good. This is good. More would be better but this is good. He'll find some betas to bulk up their numbers.

 

* * *

 

He should have went for Monty. Murphy is the worst fucking excuse for an omega that Bellamy has ever seen. He doesn't obey. He talks over him. He insults him, in front of others even. He won't even let him breed him. Keeps complaining that he's not “ready.”

And then there's this.

Murphy is standing at the entrance to the tent, grinning sheepishly. Another black eye, just beginning to form, has joined the first from a couple days ago.

He likes to fight.

It's not about protecting himself, Bellamy realized that after the first three fights. Murphy enjoys fighting. He enjoys instigating fights. He enjoys hurting others, and being hurt in return. His place in Bellamy's pack should protect him but not when Murphy keeps challenging random betas like this.

Murphy won't let himself get fucked by his alpha but apparently he's fine rolling around in the dirt with others.

“I should throw you out of here and let somebody else have you,” Bellamy snorts from his place in bed.

“You wouldn't do that. You want me too bad.”

“God knows why. You look like shit, Murphy.”

“Bruises heal,” the boy shrugs, hair falling over one eye. He takes off his shoes then flops down onto the bed beside Bellamy. The movement sends up a puff of air that smells like the boy and Bellamy breathes deeply to control himself, closing his eyes.

Murphy is driving him insane.

The younger boy doesn't want sex but he likes touching. Enjoys cuddles. Having his hair played with. He wraps himself around Bellamy from behind like a snake, wiggling until his head is up on Bellamy's chest but his legs are still behind Bellamy's back.

His flexibility could come in hand, someday, hopefully sooner than later.

“You're warm,” Murphy observes, his voice muffled by the fabric of Bellamy's shirt.

“You're just cold.”

“Whatever you say,” Murphy writes off the comment, obviously not agreeing with Bellamy's sentiment. To be fair, it's probably a combination of both. Bellamy warm from having just woken, barely having disentangled himself from the covers, and Murphy cold from being outside in the early morning air.

“Where were you?”

“Pissing. Why, miss me?”

“You got a black eye taking a piss?”

“I may have pissed on somebody.”

Bellamy groaned, reaching up to rub at his eyes. This fucking kid. Who pisses on people? Seriously? Even alphas don't do that and they love making stuff smell like themselves.

“Who did you piss on?”

“Connor.”

“Any particular reason you decided to take a piss on Connor?”

“He smelled bad. I figured it'd improve his smell.”

Bellamy adjusts Murphy in his arms and laid back down on the bed, the boy sprawled across his chest. He doesn't fight it. Bellamy breaths him in, enjoying his heavy scent. Still seeped in the smell of sleep and old smoke and the ripeness of not having washed in several days. He rubs Murphy's back slowly but with a heavy hand, feeling the bumps along his spine. Murphy burrows his nose into Bellamy's bare chest. He's always able to do this so easily. To turn off that angry, aggressive side of himself and just become this submissive, lazy creature who just wants to be held and coddled.

He was never like this in public.

“Did you win the fight?”

“They broke us up,” he replies. “I barely got a punch in.”

“I'm surprised anybody is even awake yet. It's barely light out.” The light from outside was glowing through the tent, dim and cool.

“The sun's been up for hours,” Murphy pushes himself up against Bellamy's chest, turning to look towards the tent's flap. It was closed. Bellamy wasn't sure what he thought he'd see. “It's just been raining out.”

“Shit. Really?”

“Yeah. I've been awake for awhile, just listening to it. I waited for it to stop raining before I ran to the latrines.” Murphy laid back down, settling down like he didn't plan on moving for awhile. And while Bellamy would love to just stay here and spend a rainy day cuddling his omega, he knew he needed to get up and do something productive. They were supposed to go hunting today.

“Did you want to come hunting with us?”

“Who's us?”

“Atom, of course. Miller. Probably Mbege.” It was odd how quickly Mbege had grown close to Bellamy, especially considering he had punched out the boy to claim Murphy as his own. But Murphy and Mbege were friends from childhood so maybe the other John just accepted he needed to be friendly with Bellamy if he wanted to keep his friendship with Murphy.

Murphy smelled enough like himself now that Bellamy had no fear of anybody trying to take him away. Not even Mbege, who, admittedly, is probably the only person who would want Murphy. Even Bellamy thinks sometimes he'd be better off without him. But not that often.

“Yeah, I'll come,” Murphy agrees. “I'd just be stuck chopping wood or some shit here anyway. I'd rather kill something.”

“You're so violent,” Bellamy chuckles. For some reason he found Murphy's violent streak adorable. Maybe because he was so small and submissive to himself. The man kisses the top of the boy's head. “If you want to put it off for a bit we could have some fun in here.”

As usual, Murphy pulled away instantly. Not at all seduced by Bellamy's sultry tone. He was up and adjusting his pants before Bellamy even was able to grope him in the slightest.

Always.

“I saw Atom just standing around outside. He's probably waiting on you.”

“Murphy.”

“The animals are probably moving because it's cool out. I bet the sooner we get out there the better.”

“Murphy, come on. Get back in bed.” Bellamy used his most honey-sweet tone of voice. The one that would make most people melt. Gentle, coaxing. Not wanting to come off as commanding but needy.

“Besides, if we get something big we might end up having to gut it out there and then carry it all the way. The more daylight the better.”

“Please? Get back in bed. I promise I won't try anything.”

Murphy ignored the plea, as if he hadn't even heard it. The air from outside blew cool and wet as he exited the tent. It smelled like wet dirt outside.

 

* * *

 

Bellamy had lost one of his pack. One of his omegas, even. That was even worse. He was supposed to protect his omegas, that was the point of being their leader. He believed strongly that the role of the pack wasn't for the omegas to serve the alphas, like some did, but for the alphas to care after the omegas.

And he had failed.

Atom was dead. Not by his hands, but still. He should have stayed with him. Should have made sure to keep everyone together when the fog came.

But Atom was competent. Large, strong, athletic. Of course Bellamy had to take Charlotte and Murphy into consideration first. Charlotte was so young, so inexperienced. And Murphy was, well, Murphy was his mate. The most valuable member of his pack to him, besides maybe Octavia.

And now Atom was dead.

None of Clarke's omegas were dead. All of them were alive and healthy, thriving even. They didn't fight like some of Bellamy's pack did. He had to admit that maybe Clarke was a bit better at this dominance shit that he was. She controlled her pack with an iron fist, even the betas obeying her without question.

Bellamy's betas mostly did what they wanted. He had told them to do so. That was why more followed him than Clarke, but do numbers count when they don't obey?

He had never tried to be a dominant. He had never wanted to be a pack leader. All he had ever cared about before was keeping his sister safe.

His suppressants were just finally starting to clear from his system. He both feared that fact and craved it. Surely his alpha hormones, when they finally kicked it, would help him be a better pack leader. Would help him take care of them.

But that doesn't help Atom.

Murphy and Charlotte both stay by his side, not moving more than a foot from him the entire walk back. He received volunteers to help carry the body but he does it himself.

Octavia is a wreck when she sees him. Bellamy hadn't been overjoyed by their relationship but there were worse options for his sister. An omega, part of his own pack, had been an ideal match for her honestly. Atom was kind to her, would never have struck her or attempted any sort of real dominance over a beta. Bellamy just wasn't ready for her to grow up quite yet.

They bury him by the bodies of the two who had died during the landing. They carve the letter B into a stick, indicating he had been part of the Blake pack, and mark his grave with it.

Bellamy only has two omegas left.

That night is more subdued. Not everybody in the camp knew Atom necessarily but they recognized him, knew he belonged to Bellamy. Any death among themselves should be mourned. There's less joking and laughing around the fire. Monty brings out his latest batch of moonshine and they toast in Atom's memory.

Bellamy sits on a log with Murphy to his left, the boy's head leaning on his shoulder. His hair smells dark and musky so close to Bellamy's face. It's a comforting smell. It smells like his mate. Charlotte is on his right, asleep already, slumped over with her head on Bellamy's knee.

His betas aren't even nearby. They don't care enough about the pack, they've abandoned him to their own devices for the night.

They'll be back tomorrow, he knows that. They haven't left his pack. But they're peripherals. There for the good but gone during the bad.

He isn't sure what to do with Charlotte. Atom and Charlotte had shared the tent closest to their own, close enough that Bellamy would've been able to hear a scream or some other ruckus in the middle of the night.

He knew she wouldn't feel comfortable being alone.

“Don't worry about Charlotte,” Octavia whispers to him, reading his mind, her voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire. “I'll move in with her.”

Bellamy sighs in relief and thanks his sister. That makes him feel better. Having his sister and his other omega right next door. She had been sharing a tent with another one of the female betas, but surely the other girl wouldn't mind having her own tent now. He knew from experience that living with Octavia wasn't the easiest thing in the world.

“We should probably get her to bed,” his voice comes out gruff.

“Yeah,” Octavia agrees. “Help me get her to bed.”

Murphy sits up, scoots away so Bellamy can stand, but does nothing to assist them otherwise. They manage to get Charlotte up and walking, leaning against Bellamy with almost her full weight, which isn't much. He's pretty sure she never really wakes back up. He gets her back to her bed. He tucks her in, and then tucks in Octavia, despite her objections that she was much too old to do so.

“Let me have this,” he insists. He needs this right now. To take care of them. To make them feel warm and secure and safe. He couldn't do that for Atom.

Octavia concedes. He tucks the blanket around her, humming the tune of a song their mother used to sing to them at night. She lets him kiss her forehead.

“Go be with Murphy,” she says when he's finished. “Murphy's an asshole but you can tell he's messed up about what happened.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I'll go get him right now. Let me know if you need anything in the middle of the night. I don't care what time you barge into my tent, you know that? I just want to keep you safe.”

“I know that, big brother. But we're fine here.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.” She finally rolls her eyes. He's surprised she managed to put it off that long.

Murphy is still sitting on the log. His arms are wrapped around himself and he's leaning forward, staring empty eyed at the fire, a mostly empty cup of moonshine still held in one hand. Others are talking but in hushed voices. Nobody from Clarke's pack is there any longer. When she left they all left.

Murphy didn't leave when Bellamy did.

“Come on,” Bellamy tugs at his arm. “Let's go to bed.”

“It's not that late,” Murphy argued, turning to look up at him. His eyes glow orange in the light of the fire.

“I need you,” Bellamy says simply. Murphy might be an asshole but he's still an omega. He won't turn away his alpha when he's bearing his soul like that.

Murphy follows him to the tent. Bellamy all but tackles him onto the bed. He's got the boy on his back and he's kissing him with so much need their teeth hit and they both pull back, Murphy making a startled sound while Bellamy just grabs his own mouth reflexively.

He kisses him again. Pushes him down on the bed. He lets himself touch Murphy in ways he never lets himself normally. His hands more insistent, more forceful. He's touching the boy's stomach, sliding his hands up under his shirt. And Murphy allows that, doesn't pull away or try to stop Bellamy's touches. He kisses back, almost needy in his enthusiasm, and he touches Bellamy back. He seems to like the area where he's widest across the chest since he keeps resting his hands there on his sides, gripping him.

Murphy is hard when Bellamy blindly reaches down, trying to find the zipper of the pants.

But that movement is what brings their caresses to a screeching halt.

“Bellamy, stop.” Murphy pushes at his shoulders. Bellamy doesn't even notice. He has his head buried in Murphy's throat, is wrapped up in that aroma that just screams “my omega.” Just different in the slightest way from when he first claimed him. He hadn't smelled taken then. Hadn't smelled like his pack. Murphy pushes again, his voice more forceful, and then a third time, and this time his voice is loud and shrill and hurts his ears.

He can hear his own heartbeat in his ears.

“Murphy, please. I know you wanted to take this slow but I need you tonight. Please.”

“I'm not ready.” Same old excuse. It's been nearly a month.

“Are you not attracted to me?” Bellamy hears the words come from his mouth before he's aware he's speaking them. That had been a hidden fear for awhile now. That maybe Murphy didn't actually want him. Maybe he had relented to be Bellamy's omega, his mate really, just because Bellamy had punched out Mbege and he thought he had no choice. All of them had a choice. If Charlotte or- If Charlotte said she wanted to leave him for a different alpha tomorrow he'd allow it, as long as the alpha in question wasn't a scumbag.

“You just felt my dick,” Murphy replied. “Obviously I'm attracted to you.”

“Then why keep putting it off? Everybody is having sex. You're hot and you're my mate and I just want to fuck you.”

“Isn't no good enough for you?”

“I won't force you,” Bellamy sits up, moves away. Far enough away they're not touch, giving Murphy space, but close enough so he won't think he's abandoning him. “I just think I should have an answer. If I had an answer then I'd be able to stop myself better, I think.”

“I'm scared, okay?” Murphy huffed. He yanked the blankets over himself, putting a shield between them. He was still wearing his shoes. His face was red, embarrassed. But his voice sounded angry. “I'm afraid it will hurt.”

“You've never had sex without being in heat?” Bellamy guessed. During heat, male omegas naturally secreted lubrication and were looser, more easily bred. When they weren't in heat they needed artificial lubricant and to be carefully spread open. Fucking a male omega when not in heat was no different than having sex with a male beta, except for maybe smelling a bit better.

Bellamy's question was followed by a long silence. Murphy's head was tilted down and he seemed to be inspecting the blanket. When he spoke it was all but a whisper.

“I've never had sex at all.”

“You've never...but how did you. Your heats?”

“I had my first heat in the Sky Box.”

Omegas in the Sky Box were not bred during their heats. They were given shots when they set in, shots that countered the hormones quickly, bringing a three week process down to less than 48 hours. Authorities believed 48 hours was an acceptable amount of time for omegas to suffer. Omegas didn't die from a 48 hour heat.

“You're a virgin,” Bellamy states the obvious.

“Yeah, well.” Murphy shrugs, as if that says it all. Which Bellamy suppose it does.

“You could have told me.”

“I'm sixteen. It's kind of pathetic.”

“I was a virgin until I was nearly twenty,” he confesses. “Sixteen is nothing.”

“Didn't you ever go into rut?”

“I did,” he confirms. Ruts weren't regular like heats, they seemed to be triggered by a variety of things such as pheromones, food quantity, even temperature. “But I couldn't bring anybody back to the cabin so I always gave myself up for confinement during them.”

“Oh.” That wasn't much of a response but Bellamy noticed the difference. The way Murphy's shoulders loosened, the tension melting. How his breathing seemed less tight. “I do want to, you know that, right? I will soon. I just need a little more time. I was thinking maybe the first time should be when I go into heat in the winter. Could you wait three months? Nobody says it hurts during a heat.”

Three months. Fuck. That sounds torturous. Three months of sharing a bed with this gorgeous, sweet smelling boy, and he couldn't fuck him.

But he had to protect him omegas. Even from himself.

“Yeah, I can wait for that,” he agrees. And he thinks to himself, tomorrow maybe, he'll teach Murphy how oral sex works. Because oral sex doesn't hurt.

 

* * *

 

Tomorrow is a mess. Clarke takes her pack out to check out some place on her maps and comes back without Jasper.

There are people on the ground. People besides themselves. People who like to hurt others.

They get Jasper back but it's not good. Bellamy and Murphy both go on the rescue mission and Bellamy is overly protective of him. He makes sure Murphy stays between him and Clarke because Clarke is fierce and protective and would defend Murphy almost as much as Bellamy would because that's just how it works. It doesn't matter who an omega belongs to, you need to protect them.

Jasper comes back on death's door. The sound of his crying and screaming puts Murphy on edge. No matter how many hugs and kisses Bellamy gives him he cringes and complains and stalks back and forth across the camp, stopping to glare up at the drop ship regularly. He practices his knife throwing and starts more fights than usual.

Then Wells shows up dead. And everybody assumes it must be the grounders because he was on watch, looking out for grounders, and then suddenly he's dead?

Monty finds the knife nearby.

And it's Murphy's knife.

Bellamy feels his heart stop. This shouldn't be surprising. It really shouldn't. But it is. He knows Murphy likes starting fights but killing?

It must've been Jasper. Jasper up there, dying, dying loudly. Murphy had been snapping at everybody for days. He was angry. He reacted to Jasper's situation with anger. He didn't like the noises. He couldn't deal with it. So he was mean and made sarcastic bites towards anybody who talked to him and shoved at anybody who walked by.

But still. He hadn't expected this.

Murphy doesn't react well to the accusations. His reaction almost seems genuine, but Bellamy knows how deceptive he can be.

“I don't have to answer to anyone,” Murphy insists as he's surrounded by the other delinquents.

“Come again?” Bellamy asks, unable to keep the pain showing on his face.

“Bellamy,” Murphy looks almost relieved when he notices him. And Bellamy feels his stomach tighten because he knows what Murphy is thinking. My alpha, he's here, he'll keep me safe. “Look, I'm telling you, I didn't do this.”

He can't keep him safe.

 

* * *

 

Bellamy lays in bed alone that night, unable to fall asleep. Guilt racks his body. His fingers twitch. He desires something he cannot have. His hormones have finally kicked in fully and he craves intimacy. He needs someone, anyone, to be there. To need him. He needs to take care of somebody. He needs somebody to need him.

But all his omegas are gone.


	2. Jasper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murphy's back and he's in heat. Bellamy wants nothing to do with him and nobody else does either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weird thing is I wrote the first half of this chapter before I wrote the first chapter.

She was the come-on queen, too along the scene  
He found her in the shower, she'd been gone for seven weeks

-Easy Come, Easy Go  
The Decemberists

 

* * *

 

Murphy's in heat and he's a wreck.

More importantly, he's in heat, a wreck, and nobody is helping him.

This is the first heat to hit the delinquents since returning to Earth. Not the first ever, of course. The suppressants on the Ark had never stopped heats, there was no way to do so on a long term basis without messing somebody up. The suppressants helped control scents the rest of the year, smoothed out the differences between the classes, but heats were important for the physical and mental well being of an omega. Jasper knew of some studies that had been carried out years ago, on Earth, to try to do away with heats entirely. The study had shown delaying them for a short time was acceptable, but stopping them? Omegas had died from the experiment. Others had become mentally unstable, paranoid and delusional, unable to do anything but curl up in a ball and cry for hours on end. Only some had recovered after the re-introduction of their cycles.

The omegas on the Ark had synced up over the years, all of them going into heat around the same time of the year, every year. That particular month, falling around early winter on Earth, was a holiday for most students and workers. Betas took over the most essential jobs when needed with the promise of time off at a different time of the year, but for the most part it was a month for freedom – time to do what was natural and time to regain strength, to heal and recoup.

This was not that month.

“It must've been being among the grounders,” Clarke explained in her professional know-it-all manner. “New mating opportunities. Or syncing with their cycles. Or maybe his body's reaction to fear. He wanted to become desirable so they'd protect him and breed him instead of killing him. On a biological level, I mean, I doubt Murphy was conscious of it. But his body probably assumed it'd be safe if he was enticing. Obviously that wasn't the result.”

Whatever the reason, Murphy returned smelling like early heat, over two months before anybody had expected any signs of it to hit. Maybe, just maybe, that scent had given him just the barest advantage. After all, he had been allowed to stay instead of being killed or sent away, as had been previously threatened. Maybe the smell of his heat was enough to edge him in the right direction

But pheromones are one thing. Pheromones aren't enough to erase memories.

Bellamy was the one to give the orders that Murphy was to be isolated.

Murphy was kept upstairs in the drop ship. Partly to protect him from unwanted advances of any roving grounders, but mostly to keep him from the rest of the crew. In an irony of past events only fate could set, his moans and cries were upsetting everybody. Especially the omegas.

But he wasn't as loud as Jasper had been. According to Monty, his own screams of pain had resonated for a half a mile outside the camp, at least.

“Disgraceful,” Jasper heard Monty's disgusted murmurs. The shorter omega was bent over some equipment, working on one of their radios.

Jasper lifted an eyebrow, put off by Monty's declaration. That seemed so unlike his best friend, to judge another omega for what he couldn't help.

“He can't help being in heat, Monty.”

“I'm not referring to him,” Monty huffed through his nose. “I'm talking about all those alphas out there who could fix this yet do nothing.”

“He's not exactly anybody's favorite person around here.”

“I know that, but this is just cruel. They could put an end to this in just a couple days but instead he's going to have to go through at least three weeks of relentless suffering. If he survives that long.”

Jasper didn't like to think about it but he knew what Monty was referring to. Starving, tortured, and returned coughing blood – Murphy hadn't been exactly in peak condition for a heat. He had only been missing about a month when he had shown up outside the camp, but he had managed to lose so much weight in that short amount of time.

Jasper knew this was hitting Monty especially hard because he was an omega. He was relating to Murphy's torment in a way alphas and betas could not. Monty had never went through a heat in the Sky Box, neither of them had been there long enough. But they heard stories about it from the others. How painful those short two days could be without a partner there to comfort you. How those two days felt like two months.

“I know he's upsetting you,” Jasper touched Monty's lower back, rubbed a few soothing circles there through his shirt. “I can see if we can have him moved if you'd like?”

“That wouldn't help him.”

“It'd help you.”

“This isn't about me.”

Jasper smiled at his best friend. He reached for him, dragged him into a hug. Monty sagged against him, clearly drained from the ordeal of dealing with Murphy's suffering over the last few days.

“Don't worry. You won't go through that. There's plenty of alphas here. Nobody would just let you suffer like that.”

“I hate you,” Monty mumbled against his neck. “You weren't supposed to end up as a stupid beta, you know that? You were supposed to be an omega so we could commiserate together or an alpha so you could make me feel better.”

Jasper chuckled. “Sorry my genes didn't obey your orders.”

Monty shrugged. Jasper released him. He returned to his tools and wires.

“You'd think with this many damn alphas at least one or two couldn't resist the pull.”

This many alphas. It does create an odd society to have such a disproportionate number. On the Ark, as in previously studied societies, births seemed to average about ten percent alphas, thirty percent omegas, and sixty percent betas. Jasper was used to being a majority. Monty wasn't used to being this much of a minority.

“It's because of Bellamy,” Jasper replied. “I'm sure somebody would've probably come to him if Bellamy wasn't here.”

He wasn't sure if Bellamy had explicitly told the other alphas to leave Murphy alone. But even if he hadn't, everybody remembered. Murphy had belonged to Bellamy. And Bellamy had a lot of advantages going for him. For one, he was a dominant alpha by birth. You could tell that from his scent, it lingered around the camp for hours after he had departed on an excursion. It hadn't been obvious at first since he had been the only one still on suppressants when he landed, but after the first month it was undeniable. Only Clarke would be able to challenge him on a purely hierarchical basis. Then there's the age thing. Several years older than the other alphas, many of them still in the throws of puberty, he just possessed a gap of seniority it was hard for most to overlook. Not when their own youths were in so recent memory. Then of course there was the simple fact he had been a guard. He had been trained to take control and his tone of voice, his very body language, demanded obedience. Even if he had lost his position, he still retained his training.

No, Jasper may not be sure if the other alphas were working on direct order or instinct, but either way the threat of Bellamy's wrath was closely tied to Murphy's current predicament.

Murphy, who had manged to stay quiet for the last twenty minutes, began crying again. Jasper grabbed the jug of water and went to him. Keeping him hydrated was about the least he could do.

He was set up in the corner of the room. In the Ark most omegas stayed in their own rooms during their heat, doors locked with a password only certain alphas had access to. This was to ensure both that the desperate omega didn't get out, and any unwanted alphas didn't get in. Cabins with more than one omega, or ones with children living with them, could go to one of the heat rooms, but most preferred the familiarity and comfort of their own living spaces.

Either way, familiar or clinical, it played out the same in the end.

They hadn't been able to totally replicate the nesting supplies that they had one taken for granted. Murphy's nest was pathetic. Small and hastily thrown together out of whatever blankets and and sticks he could find. An optimal nest had a rounded, low ceiling which allowed for a couple to curl up into without hitting their heads. It wasn't used for the actual mating, but as a resting place between. Murphy's nest barely fit him on his own and he was half starved. The roof was jagged and too low.

He lay curled up on himself, his back facing Jasper. The taller boy helped turn him over, facing the opening of the nest.

The flushed omega only accepted a couple smalls sips, then he pushed the water away.

“Don't let them take me again,” his voice came out hoarse and panicked.

“I won't,” Jasper promised again, for what must've been the fiftieth time that day. He put his hand on Murphy's bruised shoulder, afraid to hurt him but trying to comfort him. “You're safe here, I promise.”

Murphy shook his head at this statement. His face was wet with tears, the salt from them irritating the healing cuts on his skin. Monty walked up beside Jasper and knelt down beside Murphy. The boy was holding a backpack, or a makeshift one anyway, to his chest. Monty tugged at it gently.

“No,” Murphy protested.

“It's okay, give me Clarke's pack,” Monty soothed. “The smell's gone by now. Here, I've got Raven's towel for you.”

Murphy relented, releasing the pack and taking the oil-soaked rag from Monty. He pressed it against his face, inhaling the fresh scent of alpha. The pheromones calmed him and he turned to settle back down, for now. His breath came out uneven, shuddering, but he didn't cry.

 

* * *

 

Finn was the next one to join Murphy in his heat. But, oh, no, he didn't have any trouble with that. He had plenty of volunteers, though it was Clarke and Raven who obviously took charge of the situation.

Harper was the third to enter her heat.

“If we had just gotten this over with quickly,” Monty griped, in the earliest pre-stages of his own heat. “This wouldn't have happened. Now we're all being triggered.”

It would have happened sooner or later anyway, but with the threat of grounders so close it wasn't the best time for half their numbers to be so distracted.

Jasper mated with Monty, as he always had in the past. He couldn't stop the heat, being only a beta, but it helped in the early stages. Kept the itch away until he was too far enveloped by his own warmth and scent to fight it anymore. Eventually he was past the point of no return, where he lost the ability to feel shame and embarrassment. Then Jasper reluctantly released him to a group of less dominant alphas, selected and approved by Clarke, making them promise to be good to his best friend.

It was best to have multiple mates during a heat. Otherwise your body might be tricked into thinking you had a life partner.

It went quickly. Two days later he awoke to Monty curled up in his arms. His skin felt cool and dry and, though Jasper lacked the ability to smell it himself, he was sure the scent of omega in heat was gone.

And Murphy still tossed and turned in his nest, sweating and crying and trying to touch himself in desperation but always pulling away because their own touch always hurts an omega in heat.

Monty was in a cuddly mood, he was often like a contented house cat after a heat, but he kept pulling away from Jasper. It stung. He wasn't romantically interested in Monty but he was like his other half. He was used to their touches and close intimacy.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, of course not,” Monty shook his head. The small lamp beside him illuminating his shadow across the desk. “It just doesn't feel right to be so comfortable with Murphy five feet away from us in pain.”

“He'll be finished soon. It's been nearly two weeks.”

“You don't understand Jasper, you can't.”

“Don't you think I know that?” Jasper hissed angrily. “What do you expect me to do? Put him out of his misery?”

Monty rolled his eyes. He could be such a little bitch sometimes.

“Like you could do something like that. You're too nice. You're a nice guy, Jasper.”

“When I can be, anyway,” he replied. Being nice on the ground isn't as easy as it could be.

“Then be nice to Murphy,” Monty instructed.

“I have been nice to him! I've been taking care of him.”

“No, I mean like how you're nice to me when I go into heat.”

Jasper stared at his best friend, not quite sure if he was understanding what he was saying. Monty kept his stare, waveringly steady. He had more strength than some people gave him credit for.

“That won't stop it.” Jasper stated the obvious.

“It'll give him a little relief.”

“I can't even knot him.” He pointed out.

“It's still better than nothing.”

“He'll want to kill me after he's back to normal.” Jasper could see it now. The moment Murphy was back to normal he'd come after him with a knife. Probably when his back was turned.

“You know that's not how an omega's brain works.”

“Why can't you do it instead?”

Monty gave Jasper his 'Are you retarded?' look. Which he had to admit he probably deserved. A beta trying to breed an omega was one thing, betas had no scent of their own. But an omega with another omega? Of course omega couples existed but during heat they became absolutely repugnant towards each other. An omega in heat thought another omega smelled like feces and rotten eggs, according to Monty anyway.

“Okay, fine. But you better go fetch me something of Bellamy's.”

“Why Bellamy's?” Monty asked, confused.

“Because you know as much as I do that I suck at this 'dominance' thing. So I better have some pretty awesome pheromones.”

Jasper removed his shoes and attempted to psych himself up while he waited for Monty to return. It's not like he hadn't had sex with an omega in heat plenty of times...it's just that had always been the same omega. And Monty was such a perfect omega. Pliant, soft, small, gentle, and giving. On top of that he was his best friend so there was already that connection there that made sex between them easy and comfortable.

But Murphy? Sarcastic, angry, somewhat homicidal Murphy? The fact he even was an omega was surprising. He must've had a hard life to end up like he had with his genes. It wasn't natural for omegas to turn out so violent and bitter.

Monty returned, barricading the door behind him so nobody interrupted. But he was doing so with himself inside the room, which made Jasper more than a little uncomfortable.

“You're staying in here?”

“Uh, yeah? Do you want to be left alone with him?”

Good point. But still. The idea of Monty watching wasn't exactly appealing.

Jasper took Bellamy's sweater from Monty, it must be too hot to wear it today if he had left it behind. He can't smell pheromones from it exactly but he can tell it smells like Bellamy. Sort of masculine, sweaty and earthy.

He looked at the sweater and then glanced over at Murphy, who as usual was lying there with his back to them, whimpering softly to himself. Should he give it to Murphy to hold over his face as he usually does? He decided to slip it over his own head instead, wearing it while he...does it. It's large and hangs nearly to his knees on him. Jasper is taller than Bellamy but the sweater is made for somebody much larger in build so it droops on his skinny frame.

Monty watched him as he took a heavy breath. This was..this was weird. How could he make himself hard for Murphy? He isn't really attracted to him. He's not necessarily ugly but he's much more masculine than Jasper's type. Jasper is straight, for the most part. His intimacy with Monty had always been a platonic thing. He had been sleeping with Monty since his first heat at the age of twelve but it had always been only during the heats. It wasn't an attraction thing, it was a friendship thing.

Besides, Monty is still closer to Jasper's idea of beauty than Murphy. Softer, rounded, smaller. He always felt good beneath him. A bit curvy, skin giving to the touch, hair silky and easily wound around his fingers.

Murphy's hair feels greasy when he touches his head. Damp with weeks worth of sweat.

“Murphy,” he says softly. “It's me, Jasper.”

“I know,” Murphy laughs softly, his voice rough. “It's always you. It's been you for weeks.”

Because nobody else had bothered to help him in even a platonic way. Jasper and Monty were the only two who were willing to help him and Monty couldn't touch him without Murphy recoiling. He brought him scent items and fresh water and took away the dirty water Jasper had used to clean his soiled body, but he couldn't do anything to help him directly.

“I'm going to help you, if that's okay?”

“No,” Murphy coughed out, his back rounding as he tried to pull away from Jasper's touch. “I'm not ready to die.”

“Not like that,” Jasper ran his fingers slowly through Murphy's greasy locks. “I'm going to breed you. Is that okay?”

Murphy nod, turns his head to look back at Jasper.

“Yes, please,” Murphy he breathes. “It hurts so much.”

“I know. Come out here, I need to undress you.”

Murphy nods again and turns, crawling out of his nest on his hands and knees. The nest stinks of sweat and body odor. If he had been an alpha he probably would think he smells great, but he just smells like unwashed body to him. He hears Monty make a disgusted noise behind him. Rotten eggs.

Murphy's face is healing up pretty well, despite his condition, and he isn't the scabbed mess he had been when he returned to the camp. Jasper tried to look at him as a sexual partner. Alright, his nose was a little big, but he had nice skin and pretty enough eyes. His lips were pretty soft looking too, kissable enough he supposed.

This would be so much easier if he was an alpha. It didn't matter for them. They always reacted to omegas in heat, regardless of gender or appearance.

Jasper puts a hand on the small of Murphy's back and holds him in place, still up on all fours, and reaches down to pull at Murphy's shorts. Real clothing had been too hot, and too necessary, so he had been wearing the same grimy undershirt and damp boxers for weeks now. They smelled ripe and he was happy to toss them aside.

Murphy is such a pale boy and, miraculously, these newly uncovered parts of him are somehow even paler.

It's strange to see him like this. So vulnerable and small. When they had first landed and Murphy was provoking fights and waving knives at other boys he had seemed taller, larger, even older. But he's not large. He's half a foot shorter than Jasper, and skinnier now after his banishment, and a full year younger than him. He doesn't have a knife.

His skin is hot to his touch. His thighs are already wet with slick. He could just stick it in and go for it if he wanted but that feels wrong. Jasper removes his own pants but leaves his underwear on for now, needing the barrier a little longer. The skin of Murphy's outer thigh shivers under his fingers as he lays his hand there. The younger boy isn't resisting in the slightest.

Jasper positions himself on his knees behind Murphy and leans over him, pressing his chest against Murphy's back. He's not trying to mount him, not yet.

He's larger in his arms. That's the first thing Jasper notices. He's taller than Monty and pressed against his back like this Jasper doesn't feel like he can envelope him in his arms in the same way. Monty can wear Jasper like a comfy sweater when they're like this.

But he's also skinnier. Harder to the touch. Jasper feels the sharpness of his shoulder blades and spine against his own chest.

Murphy tilts his head to the right and Jasper takes the invitation to bite at his throat. This isn't instinct to him. He's not an alpha. He doesn't possess the need to mark and claim Murphy. But he knows what to do. He read up on all this shit years ago, when Monty first asked him to help out on his upcoming heat. He had only been twelve then and it had been awkward. But by the end of the first time Jasper had lost his reservations. Monty was too wrapped up in his physical need to tease him about his performance.

Murphy groans but it doesn't sound painful like the ones Jasper is used to him making. His head lolls further to the side so Jasper bites him again. Not enough to leave a mark though. He can't mark Murphy. Can't leave imprints of his teeth on him. No bruises. He doesn't want to claim him.

“Yes,” the other boy breathes.

Jasper balances himself on his left hand and uses his right to reach up under to touch Murphy's chest over his shirt. His nipples are erect. He doesn't pinch them, knows that would probably be too much as tightly wound as Murphy is. He kneads them instead, massaging the flesh and muscle around the hard little buds. He's surprised to notice how much he's enjoying himself. The gasping noise Murphy is making probably helps. He reaches down and slips his hand up Murphy's shirt. Murphy presses his naked ass back against Jasper's crotch.

His skin is surprisingly soft. Even with the fading scars cutting across him. Jasper presses his fingers against the flesh of Murphy's stomach.

“Are you going to do it?” The voice startles him and Jasper jumps.

He had forgotten about Monty.

“Don't rush me.” He pulls back and sits on his knees, kneeling behind Murphy.

Okay, how to get him ready. He'd normally use his mouth on Monty, the other omega loves being pleasured like that. But he wouldn't try something like that with Murphy without some indication that he'd enjoy that, not to mention that Murphy probably isn't the cleanest right now.

Fingers will work for today. He uses his first two fingers, the index and middle, and trails them between Murphy's parted thighs. The slick coats them quickly.

He probably doesn't need this. He's already open and wet. Jasper is used to working Monty open during the early stages of his heat, when he's aroused and damp but not soaking. He's used to Monty still being tight, squeezing almost painfully around his fingers until properly loosened. Murphy isn't like that. He's tight in a way that Jasper recognizes will feel good around his cock but he takes his fingers easily.

It's a ritual though. It signals something in Jasper's mind, or maybe his body, that it's time to stick his dick in something. He's finally starting to get hard.

The noises Murphy is making are definitely helping. He's given up on keeping himself up on his hands and he's laid his head on his arms now, hiding his face. It starts with a whimper, then a few quiet gasps, then a few louder gasps. Within a minute Jasper has Murphy moaning and pushing back against his fingers.

He makes a pained noise when Jasper withdraws them.

“You okay?”  
“Didn't know it'd feel this good,” Murphy's voice is breathy and surprised and just so un-Murphy like that it feels so wrong to be doing this to him.

“This will feel even better,” Jasper promises. He pulls himself up. He grabs onto Murphy's hips. The skin there is soft and pale and feels good in his hands. He pulls Murphy back into position and then grabs his own dick, still only half hard, and jabs blindly for the spot.

He finds it. Slides in easily. He's so open and wet that even half hard Jasper has no issue entering him.

The first few thrusts are slow and soft. He's afraid of slipping out. But he's getting harder every second. He feels too good around him not to.

“Harder,” Murphy pleads. It's a request, not a demand. Murphy is incapable of demanding anything right now. He can only beg.

“Yeah,” Jasper replies. He can't say much more than that.

He holds Murphy around the waist as he goes for it. He has to hold him there. Murphy seems incapable of doing anything besides lying there, moaning and maybe wriggling a bit. He's certainly not capable of keeping his own hips up. Jasper is supporting him.

“Don't forget to jerk him off,” Monty's voice sounds cold and distant from across the room.

Jasper doesn't mind orders. He grabs at Murphy's cock. He's hard. And he's a handful. Larger than himself or Monty. He's graceless in his movements. But Murphy doesn't seem to care.

He keeps sliding on the floor, his legs sliding further open and his body farther down. If he had some pillows to throw him over this would be easier. Murphy isn't heavy but he's not light either. He's difficult to hold up and fuck at the same time.

Jasper lets him slide to the ground. Continues to push into him from this angle, fucking him flat against the floor.

Murphy doesn't complain.

He isn't sure if Murphy comes. He, himself, comes sooner than he assumed he would, considering how long it took him to get hard, and he softens. He can't stay inside him. He tries to stay in, pushing deep and keeping his hips flush against Murphy's hips as he rubs the best he can, but eventually he slips out.

His knees are sore. He sits cross legged behind him and goes back to using his fingers. His own cum seeps out, stickier than the slick he was still secreting. He smells different now.

“No, not like that,” Monty scolds him. The other omega crosses the room and kneels beside Jasper. He takes his hand, sticky and wet as it is. He does something with his fingers, rearranging them. Streamlining them?

“Push it all the way inside him, then make a fist.”

It takes him a moment to get it but Jasper is smart. He's never done with this Monty, he never needed to because Monty didn't need it. But Murphy does.

It'd replicate the feeling of a knot.

If sex with Murphy was awkward, having his first halfway up the boy's ass is downright disturbing.

Especially when Monty tells him to keep it there for an hour.

And there's not much you can do with your fist up somebody's ass when their ex-boyfriend appears on the stairs.


	3. Murphy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's wrap up season one. Again, not everything is exactly as it goes in the season.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, it's kinda funny I don't do mpreg since I just realized if Bellamy and Murphy had a baby it'd probably look like if me and my husband had one. (I'm Murphy in my marriage btw, jealous of my Filipino husband's tiny little nose.)

Limber Jack, he landed on his back  
Was bedding on the netting when the rigging went slack

-Easy Come, Easy Go  
The Decemberists

* * *

 

Murphy was unaware of the beating Jasper had received until after his heat had finally come to an end. For the last week of his heat he had noticed a young beta woman was now caring for him but he had been to dazed and out of it to fully recognize the implications of this. To him all she meant was water and food.

In the four days since the beating Jasper's face has turned color. From red, to purple, to an olive green shade. Even in the glow of the fire the bruising came across as vibrant and plain. His very body posture screamed submission. He was one of the tallest kids at the camp but he slouched down low, head turned to the ground, his shoulders sticking up just accentuating his lankiness.

He was intersected when he tried to go up to Jasper. To thank him for caring for him during his most vulnerable time, and to ask him if he was okay.

“Don't,” Miller hissed as he pulled him away from the fire pit. “Bellamy will go after him again if he sees you talking to him.”

“Bellamy did that?”

“Yeah,” Miller confirmed. Then he looked around, as if Bellamy would just be lurking behind them in the dark, waiting like some Big Brother figure for any signs of Thoughtcrime. “He was pissed off when he caught him breeding you. Shoved him down the ladder and everything. Clarke was afraid he might have fractured his ribs when it happened. You should have heard her going off on him. Bellamy, I mean, not Jasper. You can't just do that to somebody else's pack.”

For some reason that little fact made Murphy happy. Bellamy had beaten a guy for daring to touch him. Not even another alpha, just some scrawny ass beta trying to be nice.

“Is Bellamy in his tent?”

“Yes,” Miller grabbed his wrist before he could take a step towards that side of the camp. “Stay away from him. He was ready to throw you out yesterday. You don't need to tempt him.”

That was less uplifting news. Murphy was thinking, hoping really, that maybe Bellamy was ready to take him back. He hadn't thrown him out of the camp when he had showed up, and he had shown his gratitude by helping out the rest of the kids that had caught the sickness from him. And while he hadn't come to him during his heat he had beat up the guy who had.

But maybe that was showing too much optimism.

“Come on. You can stay in my tent. The other bed's been empty since Mbege was killed.”

The next few days passed decently enough. Murphy got back into the swing of things. He was assigned to work in the smokehouse, he assumed that it was a type of punishment for his past actions. Miller was helping him out some, standing up for him when some angry kids started challenging his presence back at the camp. Some blamed them for getting them all sick, a few were especially angry at the deaths of their friends from the illness.

Murphy tried to pay Miller back the third night. He reached for the button on Miller's pants as he pulled his shirt off before going to bed. Miller grabbed him by the shoulders, holding him away from him, maybe with a little more force than he needed to.

“Don't.”

“I thought you...You're an alpha. I'm your omega now, right?”

“No,” he told him simply. “I have a boyfriend. He's on the Ark still but I'm waiting for him. You're my friend and roommate, not my pack.”

He felt crestfallen at that announcement. He wasn't attracted to Miller but he had figured he could learn to be. He wanted to belong to something, somebody, again. But he was still pack-less.

Nevertheless, Miller let Murphy in his bed with him. Purely platonic. They cuddled as they slept, Murphy needing the reassurance of somebody there warm and solid against him.

Murphy was in the smokehouse when he heard Bellamy going off on him. The camp wasn't a big place, you could be almost anywhere in it and hear the shouting match.

“What's wrong, Miller? Get sick of waiting for your little fucktoy? Doesn't the concept of loyalty mean anything to you?”

“I'm telling you again Bellamy, back off! I'm not fucking your omega.”

“Right, you just smell like him why? You been switching beds on a nightly basis? Sharing underwear? I can smell him in your hair.”

“He has nightmares because somebody threw him out in the fucking forest to be tortured by grounders,” Miller's voice came out accusing and vitriolic. Murphy moved away from the door of the smokehouse, closer to the fire where he could hide his body in the stinging gray cloud.

He wasn't surprised when Miller asked him to leave the tent that evening.

His instinct was to go to Mbege. Mbege had been Murphy's only real friend throughout the years. But Mbege was dead.

Murphy stood in the middle of the camp, blankets in his arms, looking around helplessly. Nobody would meet his eyes. Alphas and betas alike walked swiftly passed him, eyes turn to the ground, or into the distance, up or at the sky. Anywhere but at him.

Were they scared of him, or Bellamy?

He set himself up in the drop ship. Not the most comfortable place to try to get a decent night's rest but he didn't have many options. At least it felt safer from the grounders than the flimsy tents. But he couldn't make himself go upstairs. He had spent too many days stuck up on that floor. The ladder seemed like a stairway to suffering and pain.

The drop ship floor felt cold and metallic. When he woke himself up in the middle of the night with his own screams he was alone.

Octavia was being, well. Not nice to him exactly, but tolerant. Talking to him, at least. She seemed to be the only one. Murphy supposed that might be because she didn't fear her brother. Knew he would never do anything to hurt her.

Then he heard them arguing too.

“For fuck's sake Bellamy,” Octavia bit out angrily. “Why the fuck would I try to fuck Murphy? Just to piss you off? He's like the size of my thigh. I'd feel like a fucking Amazonian next to him.”

He was impressed by the number of “fucks” she managed to fit in one breath.

“Well that does seem to be the image you're going for lately.”

“Oh fuck you.”

The smokehouse burns down only a few hours later.

Predictably, everybody blames Murphy.

He had told Del. Fucking told him. He knew this shit would happen. Murphy couldn't help himself. He had been trying to keep his nose clean, avoid trouble, but he snapped. Here he was again, being blamed for shit he didn't do. Because Murphy is just everybody's punching bag to do with as they like.

Del wasn't expecting the punch to his face from somebody so weakened from such recent ordeals. He went down quickly and Murphy was on top of him, punching him again, and again, and again. His blood felt good on his hands. It felt good to be the one in charge for once.

Then he was being pulled off the struggling boy. He was shoved against a tree, the bark scraping his back through the thin material of his shirt.

“Murphy! Stop it!” Bellamy shouts in his face as he tries to take another swipe at his attacker.

“He's the one who burnt down the fucking smokehouse!” Murphy shouts back, trying to push against Bellamy's grip. Bellamy is so much stronger than him and keeps him in place. “It wasn't me! It was Del! I told him to stop feeding the fire!”

“I know, Octavia just told me so.” Bellamy's voice, steady and deep, is soothing. Murphy tries to ignore that fact. He can't let Bellamy just come in and dominate him. Not again. That time is over. “But you can't just beat him into a bloody pulp.”

“Oh, what? Like you did to Jasper?” Murphy can't help but smirk at Bellamy's pained face. “You can beat the shit out of Jasper for sticking his dick in me but I can't punch this asshole a few times in the face after he destroyed our entire supply of food for the winter?”

“That's not how we do things here anymore,” Bellamy snarled, not taking the bait. Murphy felt his spit land on his cheek. “We don't just do what we want and take things into our own hands.”

“Oh yeah, couldn't have that. Some innocent kid might get hanged.”

Bellamy suddenly released him, taking a few steps back. This is the closest they've been since Murphy's return and Murphy, despite his anger, despite his bitterness, can't help but notice how handsome Bellamy looks. If anything he's more attractive than he was two months ago. Stronger, broader across the shoulders, his skin darkened by the sunlight. He even has a few more freckles across his nose. He's so “boy next door” beautiful he could be on one of those old sitcoms.

Murphy wishes Bellamy would kiss him.

“You're responsible for Charlotte's death. I should just throw you out of this camp, but Clarke insisted we let you stay. Stop fucking up your second chance.” Bellamy took a deep breath and took another step back. “Get out of here. I don't want to see you around for the rest of the day.”

Fuck it. Murphy needs Bellamy. Needs him more than he's ever needed anything in his life. Even the way Bellamy is clenching his fists is attractive. It makes the muscles bulge in his arms. Those arms he wants around him, holding him close.

“Bellamy, please,” Murphy reaches for him and he takes a third step back. “I've been so alone. Can't you just-”

“If you're alone why don't you go ask Jasper to fuck you again.”

“You can't blame me for that.”

“What about Miller? You weren't in heat then.”

“Jasper is the only person I've had sex with,” he insisted. “And that barely counts, considering. I didn't even want him. I wanted you to be my first, you know that.”

When Murphy touches Bellamy's arm the older man responds by shoving him, hard. He falls back against the ground, cutting his hand against a piece of metal from the drop ship. He barely feels it.

* * *

 

Fuck Bellamy. Fuck everyone. Fuck the camp. Fuck the Ark. Fuck this stupid fucking drop ship.

Why is he still being punished for that little cunt's death? He didn't kill her. He hadn't seriously even planned on doing so. Smack her around some, yeah. But if she had been on the Ark she would have been floated. Murphy had only wanted his pound of flesh, but not in a literal sense.

Murphy punches the wall of the drop ship in his ongoing pacing across the interior of it.

What's the fucking use? Everything he does is pointless. He helped them destroy the bridge with his knowledge of the route here. He helped care for the sick. He helped smoke their food for the winter. He has done nothing but help since he got here and what does he fucking get?

Probably tetanus.

Fuck this.

It's time to start taking revenge.

If they're going to treat him like a murderer then he might as well make it worth it.

He starts with Connor. He had been nice to Connor when the other boy had been sick. He brought him water and turned him onto his side when he was vomiting blood. Had even tried to forgive him for helping with the hanging. And how did Connor pay him back? Made some shitty joke about how it was his turn to get pissed on now.

He takes Connor out that night by the latrines. Seems fitting. It's the first time he has actually murdered somebody and it's easier than he had thought it would be. It gives him that same thrill fighting does. That rush of adrenaline. The high of being in control. He smiles into Connor's face as the boy drowns in his own blood, feeling the boy's hot breath on his palm.

It would be easy to take out Monty next, he is alone with him in the drop ship half the night, but neither Monty nor Jasper had done anything to harm him. And they belong to Clarke who, for the most part, seems to be protecting him. He's not Clarke's biggest fan but there are bigger fish to fry here.

He waits until Monty goes to bed that night then he takes out Myles. This kid is a fucking joke. Killing him is a favor. Nobody likes him anyway. He doesn't even realize that everybody is laughing at him. He's a fucking nerd and, if anything, Murphy is saving him from a life of pathetic mediocrity.

Except Jasper doesn't seem to take murder that lightly.

Fuck. He hadn't realized Jasper had even been in the drop ship. He hadn't heard him and Monty talking up there, he had assumed Monty was alone the whole time.

He catches him easily enough, grabs at his foot as he tries to get back up the ladder and yanks him down.

Jasper must be getting tired of falling down that ladder.

“I'm sorry,” Murphy says, real sincerity in his voice. “I didn't know you were up there. I don't want to hurt you.”

“I helped you,” Jasper points out, eyeing the gun in Murphy's hand like it was a snake, able to strike without warning at any moment.

“I know, that's why I haven't killed you.”

Nobody notices the closed door on the drop ship until the next morning.

Monty is the first one to attempt contact through the radio. He asks for Jasper, his voice desperate, and does not sound happy when Murphy is the one who answers.

“Put Bellamy on,” he demands.

“Where's Jasper?” Monty ignores his pleas. “Is he okay?”

“He will be as long as Bellamy does what I want him to.”

Bellamy's voice comes then, just seconds later. Just enough time for Monty to hand him the radio.

“How do we even know Jasper is alive?”

He lets Jasper speak to him. Only a few words. He doesn't want him giving them too much information.

Murphy isn't sure what he wants to do with Bellamy. Not exactly. He just knows he wants him in here, with him, alone. They work out a deal and Jasper is pushed out the drop ship entrance with little fanfare.

When Bellamy enters Murphy already has the gun aimed at his chest.

“You wouldn't shoot me,” Bellamy states, his arms raised cautiously over his head. “You couldn't shoot me. You belong to me.”

“I haven't belonged to you in two months,” Murphy sneers.

“Of course you have. Nobody else has claimed you so you're mine.”

“You never bred me,” Murphy reminds him. “I can't belong to you if you never fucked me.”

“I wanted to,” the other man reminds him. His face is shiny with sweat. He's nervous, Murphy realizes, pleased. Good. He wants him to take this seriously. “I tried to many times, if you recall.”

“You could have had me. Where were you last week? The week before that? You could have had me and you didn't so I'm not yours anymore. I could shoot you in the fucking face right now and nobody is here to stop me.”

“Then why haven't you?”

“I have other plans.”

He wants Bellamy to take the gun from him. He wants a reason to drop it, to have it wrestled away from him. He doesn't want to kill Bellamy. He wants Bellamy to hold him. He just wants to be loved. Why does nobody ever love him? Not his mother. Not Mbege. Not even his alpha.

Murphy directs him to put the noose around his neck.

* * *

 

He's taken by the grounders, again.

They torture him but this time it's brief. He doesn't fight back like he did last time. He hands them the radio and tells them what they want to know. But they still hurt him. He thinks they must've cut through some muscle or tendon or something. He hadn't done well in biology class.

He can't walk anymore. But that doesn't matter. He's grabbed and thrown over the back of an animal. A horse. He's never ridden a horse before. A warrior climbs on behind him and grabs onto him, holding him in place.

“Your people will all be dead by morning,” the warrior tells him. “You're a slave now. I'll take you to the village and you'll be put into a breeding house to be used by my clan. You're lucky you're a pretty little omega or you'd be dead right now.”

A breeding house? Murphy had never heard the term but it sounds something like a brothel, he's betting.

He assumes they'll rape him that night, try out the goods so to speak, but they don't. They ride away from the fighting and it gets darker and quieter and quieter and darker until everything is darkness and stars and the buzzing of insects. Then they settle down for the night. There are only two grounders. A woman and a man. The man is younger than she is but larger. He ties Murphy to a tree as she starts the fire.

“Are you going to beat me?”

He laughs. It doesn't sound friendly.

“Why? Do you want us to?”

“Why the hell would I want that?”

“Well you're the one asking.”

They feed him something, he think it's rabbit. Then they let him wash it down with some water.

The grounders settle down for the night beside the fire, one sleeping as one takes watch. Murphy wouldn't say he is comfortable but he manages to nod off at one point. The heat and crackling of the fire soothes him into a deeper sleep than he thought possible sitting up.

He awakes before the sun is up but it doesn't matter, the grounders are already up as well. This time he sits with the woman on her horse. His neck and back ache.

“We'll be at the village by the time the sun is high,” she tells him, as if that will make him feel better. “It won't be bad, I promise. Our breeding houses are very well kept. You'll be appreciated.”

Appreciated. Alright, maybe that won't be so bad. Maybe this will be less “rape house” and more “courtesan house.” Not exactly his ideal profession but better than being ignored and insulted by an entire camp of his own brethren.

They don't make it to the village by noon. They don't make it at all.

The man goes down first. It is sudden and the accompanying thunderous clap that comes with it nearly sends Murphy falling.

The woman goes down next. The shot is so expert, one bullet right through her skull, that Murphy is left completely unharmed, except for a spray of grounder blood against his own face.

He falls off beside her as the horse jumps and then gallops away.

Murphy groans at the impact. Horses are fucking tall. How did he never realize how tall horses were? He's left breathless, his already hurt leg throbbing, along with his entire right side.

His face is covered in dirt when he looks up, his eyelashes dusty. He can barely see. It's like looking through a fog.

He sees black hair. The outline of a gun at one side.

“Bellamy?” He manages to get out, relief coursing through his body. Bellamy has come for him. His alpha has come for him. He knew Bellamy wouldn't abandon him to the grounders, not a second time. He had saved him and now he would hold him and kiss him and take care of him.

“Bellamy Blake?” The voice that comes from the figure is not Bellamy's. Higher, but more mature sounding. “I don't know where he is. You're the first of our people we have come across.”

Murphy shakes his head, rubs his face against the fabric of his shirt on his shoulder. He looks up again and sees the pale, arrogant face of Marcus Kane looking down at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will murphamy ever by consummated? Tune in next time. Or don't, whatever.


	4. Clarke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke feels helpless in everything going around her right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to change my writing style for this when I realized I was throwing in way too many shits and fucks for Clarke. I think Murphy is probably closest to me in personality, he was so easy to write.

Was a moonless night, the stars are lending light  
She's leering in the mirror when the road it broke right

-Easy Come, Easy Go  
The Decemberists

* * *

 

 

Clarke had no idea how everything had gone downhill so fast. How long had the adults been on the ground? Barely long enough for their natural hormones to kick it. Most of them were barely emitting pheromones, which meant that they must have started doing this before the suppressants were even out of their system.

That made it worse. At least if they were suddenly dealing with a rush of hormones it might've been more explainable. Not acceptable, but explainable. But this is scary. They're not savages. Even the 100 didn't do anything like this among themselves and they were a bunch of irresponsible teenagers.

They need to get their people out of Mount Weather but they're already out here messing everything up. How can they possibly deal with their people being imprisoned by outsiders when they're doing the same thing in their own camp?

She can't smell any of them from here. The door is too airtight. And the little round glass window she's peeking through only shows her a fraction of the entire room. But what she sees she does not like. It's white, stark, clinical. Even their blankets are dull; mauve and cream and beige. They appear listless.

“How could you let Kane do this?” she asks her mother, turning towards the older woman to demand answers.

“Honey, I couldn't stop him. He's the chancellor now.”

This is absolutely sickening.

“You realize they have Jackson in there, right?” Clarke demands, gesturing to the quarantine room. She knew if anybody would be her mother's weak spot it would be him. Despite her mother's arguments, the quarantine room does belong to the medical ward and she believes her mother must have some sway over the matter.

“Believe me, Clarke, I've been working on it.”

They were claiming it was for their own protection. That the omegas couldn't be kept safe from the grounders if they were allowed loose in the yard, free to wander too close to the trees. That any grounders could just swing in and pick them off, carry them away to be ravaged and claimed and turned into sex slaves to be used by hundreds of fierce warriors.

Right.

This is inhumane. You can't just imprison a bunch of omegas and claim it's for their own good. It's not the middle ages. Omegas have rights now. They have the right to live their lives, to do as they please, to say no when they wish. You can't just buy one for two chickens and a sheep.

“I have to see Finn,” she tells her mother.

“Of course. They're not being punished. You can visit however much you like.”

The guards scanned her card when she entered, saw she was an approved visitor. The room reeked of frightened omega. This many of them, packed in such a small place, just secreting fear pheromones? It got her own heart racing. She felt like she needed to challenge somebody or something.

This is all going to turn into a complete disaster.

Dozens of omegas of various ages, shoved together in such a small space to share? And less than a month until their normal heat cycles are expected to begin? How the hell did they plan on dealing with that? Would they have to forego privacy all together? Or relinquish groups of them at a time to private quarters?

Clarke wondered if Finn could be forced into heat again so soon after his last. She didn't want him to go through that. Not in a place like this.

She found her mate in the far left corner in the back, his bunk shoved up close to another. The inhabitants of said bunks sat facing each other, legs crossed beneath them as they spoke in tones too quiet for her to hear from near the door.

Her vision was so focused, so intense, that she could only see Finn's smiling face at first. He was so gorgeous. She hadn't been in the same room with him in weeks and her baser instincts were urging her to claim him. To tackle him onto the drab blankets and bite at his neck, reassert her dominance over him. Especially knowing Raven has been around, had access to him.

It was a struggle to push down that instinct. But no, she wouldn't give in like that. She's not a wild animal.

She recognized he was talking to somebody, but it didn't register at once who that was.

Then she startled when she realized who exactly Finn was chumming it up with.

Murphy was alive? And he was in Camp Jaha? How had he survived escaping through the forest with all those grounders on their way to the delinquent's camp? It would've been like a minefield out there.

Never mind. She grabs Finn into a hug. He hadn't even noticed her approaching and he jumps in surprise but then she feels his arms going around her.

“Clarke,” his voice is soft with emotion. “You're okay.”

“So are you.”

“Yeah, I'm fine.” He smells so good. His scent hadn't changed, despite their time apart from each other. He still smells like her mate. No “single omega” aroma was coming from him. Just that familiar scent that had altered itself months ago to compliment her own. No sniff of Raven was on him. Murphy, a bit, but that was all.

“I missed you,” she whispers into his hair. He feels good in her arms. She tightens her grip, nearly crushing him. She had been busy just trying to stay alive for so long she hadn't had the chance to just rest and worry about her mate. That was probably a good thing overall. The idea would have just depressed her. She had been hoping so much that he had survived but there had been no reason to believe it was true.

“I missed you too, princess.”

After a solid two minutes of just holding him close, she finally releases the boy. Then she turns to look at Murphy. He's looking up but away from her, face expressionless, eyes dead. For once in his life his face looks healed up, pale and pristine, no signs of bruises or scars.

She hugs Murphy. He tenses in her arms, stiff and unyielding as a boulder, and his breath catches as he inhales in shock. She doesn't let him go. When he gives in it is fully and immediate. He melts in her arms like molten plastic. He all but deflates into her arms like a shrinking balloon, as if all the air had been forced out of him. He's trembling.

“I'm glad to see you, too, Murphy. I'm glad you're alive.”

“I am too,” he replies. She can't tell if that's sarcasm. If he's saying he's glad he's alive, or she is. But it doesn't matter. She knows Murphy. Knows he uses sarcasm to diffuse tough situations. She doesn't hold him as long as she holds Finn but she holds him longer than Murphy has probably been held in a long time. He nuzzles at her hair, child-like. His smell hasn't changed either. All this time and he still belongs to Bellamy. Murphy must have some good loyalty genes inside of him. Bellamy doesn't appreciate what he's thrown away.

“Are there any of the others in here?”

“No omegas,” Finns tells her. He looks good. Smiling, clean, hair shiny and sleek. None of the sullenness that mars Murphy's face is apparent.

“Raven's here,” Murphy drawls. “And I caught a glimpse of Bellamy a couple days ago. They have him in a guard's uniform.”

“Yeah, I've spoken to both of them,” she confirms.

She tells them both about Mount Weather. About what she saw and what they're doing there. About how they need to get the rest of them out of there before anything bad can happen to them.

Neither of them can do anything to help her. They're prisoners just as much as the rest of the kids are in the mountain. Safer, maybe, but in less pleasant conditions overall. But Finn tries to sooth her, telling her they'll get them out. Murphy attempts to comfort her as well but his attempts are forced and not very helpful. Murphy really is such a strange omega. He just seems to lack that softness that is characteristic of almost all omegas she has had experience with. There's something broken about him, like shattered glass barely holding itself together.

She's been at the camp only a couple hours. Long enough to brief her mother and Kane on what had happened, grab some food, and find her mate. She doesn't even have a cabin assigned yet. Her mother probably expected her to just bunk up with her. Yeah right. She's an adult now. A leader of her own pack. She isn't moving back in with her mother.

She needs to get Finn out of here and find her quarters.

“These two are both my omegas,” she lies to the guards, pointing at both Finn and Murphy. They won't know any better. They're betas, betas can't smell who an omega belongs to. “I'll take care of them. I need them both released into my custody.”

“It doesn't matter if their alphas are here or not,” the guard tells her. “We're under strict orders to keep them all contained.”

“They need to be with me. They're upset. Look at them.”

Maybe that wasn't the best thing to say. Maybe if Finn had been able to hear her from across the room he would've attempted to put on a suffering air. He's laughing. Pushing against Murphy's shoulder as if he's just heard the best joke in the world. Murphy just sits there, hunched over, holding his ankles with his hands as if his feet would disconnect from his legs and wander off on their own if he didn't keep a hold of them.

“Uh huh,” the guard dismisses her. “If you have a complaint then talk to Kane.

“Fine, take me to Kane.”

“The chancellor doesn't take unscheduled calls this late unless it's an emergency. Any complaints will have to be dealt with in the morning.”

She considers storming to Kane's quarters herself but fears that if she leaves she might not be let back in tonight. She doesn't want to leave Finn alone another night. Not if she can be there with him.

They object when they tell her that it's lights off time and she responds by asking for a pillow to use for the night.

“My mother told me I could visit whenever I want,” she says with conviction in her voice, holding her head high. “This is when I want to visit.”

“You're an alpha. Only omegas and betas are allowed in this room after lights out.”

“Yeah?” she asks, spreading her arms wide as she looks up at the guard, barely coming to his chin. “What do you think I'm going to do? Ravage an entire room full of omegas on my own? What are you going to be doing while this mass rape on my part is taking place? Just standing there watching?”

They allow her to stay after all.

The bunk closer to the door is Finn's. They make a pile of pillows together, accepting another two handed to them by one of the nicer guards who had just come on duty, and Clarke makes herself comfortable on Finn's bunk, separating the two boys with her own body. Murphy has been oddly quiet the entire evening but when she looks up at him, Finn's head already dozing on her chest, and extends her arm to him he comes to her. She falls asleep with a softly snoring omega on each shoulder.

When she awakes again it is still dark out. She feels exhausted and thinks to herself that more than a couple of hours couldn't have passed.

She has managed to turn on her side and Finn's arms are around her waist. She can feel his breath against the back of her neck, his hips against hers. He's half-hard in his sleep. Likewise, her own arms have found their way around Murphy's waist but he's awake and he's trying to disentangle them to slip off of the cot.

A figure looms at the foot of the bed. A guard.

“Where are you going?” she whispers.

“Kane asked for me,” he whispers back.

“It's the middle of the night.”

“That's when he likes it,” he replies, his voice dull. Cold.

Clarke lays awake, her own heart beating in her throat, until Murphy returns. His skin is cool against her hand when she reaches out to touch his arm. He smells like mature male alpha and sex.

“What'd he do to you?”

“What do you think,” Murphy says quietly, not a real question but a statement. He lays back down on the bunk, the far edge of it this time, away from her. She has to forcefully pull him back into their cocoon of warm, breathing bodies.

* * *

 

“Do you know Kane is forcing Murphy to have sex with him?” Clarke asks Bellamy first thing in the morning.

“Hello to you too,” he greets her as she takes a seat at the table across from him. He has a tray of food in front of him and had been leisurely eating while paging slowly through an old book when she first spotted him. He isn't wearing his guard uniform yet.

“Your omega is being raped. How can you just sit here and read, what is this? Animal Farm? Where did you even get that book?”

Bellamy sets down the novella and sits back, taking a deep breath. He reaches up and runs his fingers through his unruly curls. Then he drops his arms back on the table. His eyes look harder than they used to. Something's gone from them.

“You weren't here.”

“For what?” She asks him, wanting an explanation. For everything. How everything has gone to shit so quickly. How anybody had allowed the omegas to be penned up like animals. But for now, just an explanation on why Bellamy was letting his mate suffer like this would be enough.

“When Kane took him,” he explains, picking his fork back up. “They found Murphy first, out in the woods. Then they found me and Finn and the others. I was so relieved to see Murphy I tried to hug him and he screamed at the others to keep me away from him. You didn't see him, Clarke. He was like a frightened child.”

He stabs at his food, as if angry at this memory.

He probably thought you were going to try to strangle him for that hanging incident,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, probably.” Bellamy agreed, shrugging. “Anyway, the first few days I just tried to hang low, let everything settle. And then I tried to talk to Murphy again. Kane saw me approaching him and blocked me and asked Murphy if he wanted to talk to me.” His voice went lower. He sounded angry.

“Did he?” Clarke had to ask this but she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.

“Of course not,” Bellamy snapped. “He hates my guts. Anyway, Kane made this big show where he made me relinquish my ownership over him. I didn't want to, you know? Murphy is, was, mine. But I don't even have a pack anymore. Not since Octavia ran off with Lincoln, God knows where. I'm just a pathetic pack-less alpha. I can't challenge the chancellor.” He was saying this all casually, trying to act nonchalant, but Clarke noticed how he kept swallowing. Every time she saw his throat bob she could hear the regret in his voice. He was taking this harder than he let on.

“Kane hasn't claimed him though?” she asks. Confirms more. Murphy's smell hadn't changed. Murphy smells like Bellamy's. For almost the entire time she has known the boy he has smelled like that.

“I don't think so, no,” Bellamy says. “I think he's just using him for casual sex.”

“And you're just going to sit back and let him do that?”

“Hey, I tried to reconcile,” he says, his posture stiffening, voice gruff, angry. “Murphy didn't want me near him. I'm not going to interfere if he doesn't want me to.”

“So you're okay with him being raped on a nightly basis?” She demanded, her own voice echoing his anger.

“His life. He can fuck whoever he wants. God knows he did at the camp.”

“You're such an asshole,” Clarke proclaims, indignant. She leaves him at the table to his own miserable solitude.

She eats alone outside as she contemplates what to do next. She wants to challenge Kane on the treatment of the omegas, but at the very least, the omegas are safe. Or at least as safe as they're going to be. But the rest of their people? The rest of her pack? Jasper. Monty. Harper. As much as she wants Finn, needs him at her side, she has to accept they're not her first priority.

She'll make sure to bring Finn anything he asks for. Just for the time being. As soon as everything blows over with Mount Weather she'll make sure all the omegas are freed.

* * *

 

Clarke catches Kane and Murphy a couple nights later. After that first night there had come strict orders from Kane to keep everybody out of the omega holding after lights out. She's been assigned to share a cabin with Raven, the higher ups figuring they would get along well seeing as how they'd already been living together at the other camp. What a joke. They butt heads constantly. Not only are they both alphas but there's that issue with Finn to deal with. She wouldn't go as far as to say they're enemies but living together isn't the best idea.

So she takes to spending time outside when she can. It feels too oppressive inside. Too much like being stuck back on the Ark. She stays outside by the heat of the communal fire as late as she can, only venturing inside when she is sure Raven has already fallen asleep for the night.

Tonight is a particularly warm night, for being so close to winter. She stays outside longer than usual, even once everybody else has left. Even when the fire has all but died out. She stares up at the stars, appreciating the fact she's on Earth. Sometimes that still leaves her feeling overwhelmed and breathless. She had never imagined she would someday be on Earth. Even months later it just hits her sometimes.

Who knows when Kane and Murphy sneak by her. It isn't difficult in the darkness of the night. The fire illuminates a very small section of the yard even when it's blazing at full height. But barely a glow of hot embers?

She hears them as she goes to get another log to throw on the fire. They try to keep it going at all times. It's easier to keep a fire going than to start a fresh one. She shoves her body against a crease in the ship, hiding.

“Are you done enjoying it yet?” Kane's voice comes across condescending, amused.

“Just a few more minutes,” Murphy is able to plead in the most monotone voice she has ever heard. It's impressive. He's so good at suppressing the omega instinct to beg shamelessly. “The air feels good tonight. Warm.”

“You can enjoy it on your knees. Come here.”

Clarke stays hidden in the shadows of the ship, hoping that Kane won't see her. She doesn't think he can. She hears Murphy's steps crunching through the grass.

She escapes before she hears anymore.

Bellamy is awake and on duty, patrolling on the other side of the yard. She doesn't tell him what's happening. Just grabs his wrist and hisses at him to come on.

“Listen,” she whispers, shoving him beside her in the nook she had been hiding in earlier. Something wet sounding. Whimpering. Murphy whimpering. Unmistakable. She can hear Kane too but mostly just his heavy breathing.

She hears Bellamy's breath as well, shuddering as he attempts to control it.

The sound of Murphy gagging cuts through the air, obscenely loud in comparison to his muffled whimpers. “Easy. Good boy.”

A wet sniffle.

“Well?” she whispers.

“I want to break his fucking neck,” Bellamy whispers back. He's shaking next to her, his entire body tense.

“Go get Murphy. This is your chance. Run for it. Nobody will be here quick enough to stop you.”

“And go where, Clarke?” Bellamy hissed back at her, “It's almost winter. Where would I take Murphy where we won't just starve or freeze to death?”

“Then grow some fucking balls and challenge Kane for him!”

Bellamy pulls away and starts back to the other side of the camp. Clarke freezes. She doesn't want to leave Murphy alone with Kane but he doesn't belong to her. He never has. She has no authority over him. She chases after Bellamy.

“You're the only one who can stop this.” She tells him. “He still smells like you. If you challenge him again and Murphy says he wants to be with you then Kane has no grounds to stand on.”

“Who knows if he wants it to be stopped,” Bellamy bites out. “He didn't sound like he was suffering, did he? Maybe he was enjoying himself.”

“You haven't seen how broken he is. He just sits there and stares at the wall of the holding for hours.”

“How about you just stop sticking your nose in other people's business for once, huh, Clarke?” Bellamy shakes her grip off his arm. His steps are long and quick and he outpaces her easily. “Not everything is about you.”

* * *

 

“You could claim him,” Raven suggests from beneath the equipment she's current lying prone beneath, and God, you know things are getting bad when she's going to Raven for advice. “If Bellamy doesn't want him and Kane doesn't think he's good enough to mark then you could do it.

But she doesn't want Murphy. He's too unstable. Too unpredictable. She likes her pack as it is and he would be a definite disruption.

She recognizes this is rather hypocritical of her.

“How about you?” Clarke asks. “You don't have any omegas. It could be good for you.”

“I'd rather choke myself on this wrench,” she responds, waving the wrench she was using in the air. “I'm good without a pack right now. My own dad was a beta, you know? I don't know, maybe omegas aren't in my future.”

“I didn't know that,” Clarke says numbly. She's still thinking to herself. Trying to figure out how to handle this.

She doesn't want Murphy. Raven doesn't want Murphy. She could ask her mother but-no, God no. That was a terrible idea.

The only one who actually wanted Murphy wouldn't take him.

“Alright,” Raven slid out from beneath her contraption. “Ready to give it a whirl?”

“What is it?”

“Uh, a radio, obviously,” Raven states, looking at her like she was stupid. “For trying to contact the other stations? Have you been listening to a word I said?”

Right. The other stations.

She pushed all thoughts of Murphy from her mind. There were more important things to deal with. Mount Weather. The other Ark survivors. The imprisoned omegas.

She shoved Murphy down further on her mental list of things she still needed to fix. She'd bring him something nice later.

Was there anything he actually liked? Besides Bellamy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love torturing Murphy. But I'm not a fan of this chapter. Clarke is difficult for me to write.


	5. Bellamy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I'm outta Decemberists lyrics. That means we need to end this. Not that this was ever meant to be a songfic but, hey, see the Decemberists live if you ever get the chance. 
> 
> Oh right, the fic. Yeah, I've totally messed up the second season, obviously. Let's assume that Clarke disappears later and Finn goes on his killing spree and Kane goes after them and all that stuff later on. I mean, there's no reason it had to happen earlier in the season, right? Oh, and if you're wondering, Lexa is a beta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really didn't like the last chapter but this one came out pretty decent. May go back and rewrite the last one so if anybody notices a change then that's what's up.

Oh Limber Jack, his name is on the plaque  
His mother is another that will never get him back

-Easy Come, Easy Go  
The Decemberists

 

* * *

 

Bellamy wondered how it felt to be Jaha. Imagine living in a place named after you. He knew from the history books he had been devouring his entire life that a lot of places on Earth had been named after famous people in the past, but those tended to be after a person's death. Airports and boulevards hadn't been named after living people.

Of course, Jaha is all but a ghost. He isn't supposed to be alive. The fact he has managed to survive, get to the ground, and find his way to camp on his own is astounding.

He should be dead. But he isn't. And he showed up with the full assumption that Kane would be willing to just hand his title back over to him. Bellamy admires Kane's resistance, but he knows the likelihood of Kane keeping his position isn't very high in the long run. He's too unlikable. The people don't want to follow somebody who walks around like he has a stick up his ass.

Those were Octavia's words. He had laughed when she stated them. He needed that. A reason to laugh at Kane, rather than just seethe angrily when he passed him in the hall and caught just the slightest whiff of Murphy on him. He needed her too. He had never really believed Octavia was in danger, knew Lincoln would protect her, but it doesn't mean being able to hug her and feel her there, solid and breathing and alive, wasn't a welcome distraction from everything else. She might not be part of his pack anymore but she'll always be his little sister.

It had felt good to not be alone for awhile. But she only stayed a few days. Then she was back out there, leading Clark, and Raven, and Abby on some mission outside of Mount Weather. Trying to find Lincoln. Clarke and Raven had some ideas they were testing regarding the radio. He had tried to volunteer as well, but Kane had rejected his request.

Kane.

He would take Kane out in a heartbeat given the chance. If he could get away with it. He's already thought about it many times. Maybe out in the woods. Somehow get the two of them alone out there where he could slit his throat when his back is turned and blame it on a couple of roving grounders.

As of yet, there hasn't appeared any particular reason why Bellamy and the chancellor would find themselves alone in the forest.

He doubts anybody has told Murphy yet about Jaha's return. The omegas seem to be in an information bubble and with Clarke out on her suicide mission, they have been all but separated from the outside world.

Bellamy manages to switch shifts with one of the betas. He shouldn't be allowed to, there were strict orders from Kane that only betas were allowed to stand guard over the omegas, but the other guards barely bat an eye at him. It's the middle of the night, the lights are off, his keycard scans, and they are just ready to hand over the graveyard shift to whoever will take it off their hands.

There is one other guard on duty but he promptly makes himself comfortable on a chair outside the door and falls asleep, sitting up against the wall with his head tilted onto his own shoulder. Bellamy gives him an extra five minutes, just to make sure, then unlocks the door and slips in.

It's dark in the room. Not quite pitch black, there is a deep red light near the back to illuminate the room just enough to see where one is walking, but there are no windows save the small round glass on the door itself. Despite the visual impairment, Bellamy has no issue finding Murphy's bunk. He's never visited Murphy, there are orders that he is not allowed to visit the omegas specifically because of his past history with Murphy, but that doesn't mean he hasn't spent an awful lot of his free time staring painfully through the small window.

He's seen how Clarke is with him. Motherly, almost. Which is absurd because Murphy hates his mother. But there was a time when Murphy's mother had been loving towards him. Before his father's death. She was probably a lot like Clarke. Classification ran heavily by one's genes. Two betas are unlikely to have an alpha son and an alpha and a beta are unlikely to have an omega daughter. Gender and classification also coincided to a slightly lesser extant. Bellamy has never heard Murphy say anything that specific about his mother but given Murphy was born a male omega it's probably safe to say his father was a male omega and his mother a female alpha. Probably. If that was the case though it explained how Murphy so easily gave himself over to Clarke's coddling. Her smell alone was probably calming to him.

Almost every time he's glanced into the room the last few weeks Murphy had been sitting on a bunk in the far corner. He never seemed to be reading or drawing or playing games like the other omegas. He just spent a lot of time staring into the distance. He's languishing.

But he's alive.

Bellamy doesn't doubt Clarke's ability to get the omegas out of this situation in the slightest. But there is one small issue with her plan. By the time she gets back Murphy might already be dead.

The problem is Jaha.

Bellamy finds Murphy, his mate, curled up in the arms of another boy. He can't find it in himself to be angry over this. Finn is an omega as well, not a threat. He has his arms around Murphy and they're spooning like a couple of newborn pups.

He tries to wake him without waking Finn.

Murphy awakes as if he were expecting it. He sits up and rubs at his eyes, glancing up at him blearily. In the dark he probably just looks like a vaguely human-shaped blob with a red aura glowing behind him.

“Is it Kane?” he asks. His voice is husky with sleep and he's already getting up. Bellamy doesn't want to wake up Finn so he just nods and leads Murphy to the door. The hallway is dim as well but not dark. It only takes a few steps before Murphy notices who is walking beside him, and even then only because he hadn't actually been looking at him. He smells him.

“Bellamy?” Murphy sounds shocked. They haven't seen each other since Murphy was rounded up and locked away with the rest of the omegas. Bellamy's missed him. “They put you on omega duty? You're, you're not a beta.”

“I had to see you,” he explains. “Just be quiet for a minute. There's a room up here where we can talk.”

For whatever reason Murphy obeys him. He could've called to the sleeping guard, pointed out that Bellamy shouldn't be here, and be led back to his bunk. But he doesn't. He follows Bellamy to a small office up the hallway and they sit in the two chairs supplied inside the office, one on each side of a worn metal desk. Murphy makes himself comfortable, legs sprawled out, arms across his chest. But Bellamy knows him well enough to recognize a front when he sees it. It's forced nonchalance.

“I just thought you should know that Jaha is back,” he cuts to the chase.

“Jaha?”  
“Yeah. He didn't die up on the Ark after all. He showed up at the gates a couple days ago. And he's challenging Kane for the chancellorship.”

Murphy made a confused face, sort of squinting his eyes as if trying to figure something out.

“And why does that concern me?” he asks, finally. “It's not like I had any plans to run in the next election or anything.”

Bellamy takes a deep breath. Lets it out. “Because, if Jaha does get his position back, then Kane loses veto power. And if Kane loses veto power he can't protect you if the counsel decides to float you over the murders of Connor and Myles.”

“Oh.” Murphy's features tighten, a shadow setting over his face. He scoots forward in his chair and uncrosses his arms from across his chest. Lays them on the table in front of them. “Shit.”

“I know Kane promised you immunity if you had sex with him but-”

“Wait, you knew that?”

“I'm not an idiot Murphy,” Bellamy scoffs. “I didn't think you were fucking somebody more than twice your age because you had daddy issues.”

“I do have daddy issues,” Murphy teases, his voice soft. It's nice to see his mate, ex-mate, not being overly hostile to him for once. But that's not the best way for this to go right now because now Bellamy's suddenly having fantasies of putting Murphy over his knee and spanking him. Maybe in a skirt. And no, no daddy fantasies. Not right now. Not when Murphy is so close and he smells like warmth and sleep.

“I can't do anything to protect you. I don't know what you want to do but if you want to try to escape I'll help all I can.”

“Escape?” Murphy asked. “Where would I go?”

“I don't know that,” Bellamy admits. He reaches across the desk to attempt to take one of Murphy's hands. He pulls back, as if a snake had just bitten him. “But I'll go with you. Protect you. We could-”

“Oh,” Murphy interrupts. “That's it? You want to leave this place because you're not in charge anymore, is that it? I'm not leaving someplace safe for once just so you can play King Bellamy.”

“Murphy, that's not-”

“For fuck's sake. I'm tired. And Kane will probably have me on my knees in like, twenty minutes, let me go back to bed.”

“But you're in danger,” Bellamy objects.

“Yeah, from you. Neither Kane nor Jaha ever hanged me from a fucking rope before.”

“Murphy...” Bellamy trails off. Not knowing what to say to that. He's apologized how many times? What's the point?

Murphy stands up and walks to the door. Opens it and leaves. Bellamy sits for a moment, just staring at his own hands on the table before him.

“Bellamy, get your ass out here and open the door or I'll wake up the other guard.”

 

* * *

 

In the end, it's the omegas that put Jaha back into power. Not because they vote for him, they're still all but cut off from anything besides their own contained existence, but because the situation with them was Kane's sore spot. Many of Camp Jaha's inhabitants were never happy with the omega situation, and things just went from bad to worse for him.

The first omega went into heat right on schedule. Within an hour two more joined her. It escalated from there.

Nobody had commanded the beta guards to not allow alphas into the room, even though anybody who had visited within the last day or so must've smelled the change coming. And when it did hit they had no idea. They couldn't smell it and they weren't paying that much attention to the situation at hand. It wasn't as if they were furiously masturbating or having sex with the other omegas. Neither were possible to them during a heat. The guards continued to allow visitors to come and go, as long as they have the right clearance.

One visitor is a young man. Only about fourteen. He came with innocent enough intentions, he wanted to see his mother, check on her, make sure she was okay. He visited every day if he could, and every other day at least. He is also at that perfect age where an alpha is starting to get those impulsive, unmanageable feelings without yet knowing how to control them. This is probably the first time he's smelled omegas in heat since reaching his own maturity.

He assaults a young girl about a year younger than himself. She's small and he has her bent over the bed in seconds, holding her down with one hand on the small of her back. He doesn't get any farther than that before a few of the other omegas are already on him, pulling him off, the guards rushing into the room to take control of the situation. The boy doesn't fight back but the guards are rough on him. He comes out of the room with a bloody nose and a black eye.

All of the omegas, especially the young girl, go into full panic mode.

The situation is already far from comfortable for them and to be in heat? In this strange place? Surrounded by people they don't know? Hostile people? No materials for nesting? Many of them missing their mates? The room turns into a sobbing, hysterical mess.

These are people's spouses. They're people's children and co-workers and friends.

Bellamy isn't allowed to help empty the containment room. Too “risky” they tell him, and the other alphas, as they're all locked away or sent off camp grounds while the omegas are moved. Jaha is the only alpha allowed to supervise. For some reason they trust Jaha. He had saved them all on the Ark. 

The people demand Kane be detained during the transition. He can't take command during the detainment. If something happens during the containment, say grounders attacking, they need a leader. So the chancellor pin is handed over to Jaha. Temporarily, it is decided, via popular vote.

Murphy and Finn are split up. Finn is sent to Clarke's empty quarters. She's not back yet but she is his mate and that is the best place for him to be. Her scent will make him feel calmer, more assured.

Murphy receives his own quarters. Smaller than most, a single room. People glare at Bellamy in the hallway. Judging him. Why hasn't Murphy moved in with him?

The boy still smells like him and he knows it. Or rather, they smell like each other. That's how the pheromones work with mated pairs. Their own scents changing, molding into a combination of their own biological signatures.

You could also say he smelled like Murphy, but nobody ever says that. It's always the other way around. The omega smells like their alpha. Besides, he doesn't smell like Murphy. He hasn't since his own hanging. He hadn't noticed it himself, you don't usually notice your own scent, but Raven had just mentioned it again to him in passing before she had left on her trip with Clarke. A taunting reminder.

He wishes Murphy would stop reeking of him. Maybe if he didn't still smell like him he'd stop getting those angry looks from others and stop hearing the word “abandoned” whispered behind his back. But at the same time, the idea of Murphy's scent changing terrified him. As embarrassing as it is to be the object of so much judgment, the petty, jealous part of him doesn't want Murphy emitting an un-mated come-hither scent. And even less does he want to smell another alpha linked up with him.

He patrols Murphy's corridor without being assigned to them specifically. Officially, he is guarding all the doors. Some contain single omegas, some couples. Alphas, and even a few betas, come and go. They leave with the enticing scent of omega, and heat, and sex. In their hair, on their clothes, seeping from their skin.

It's horrible. The longing that creates within him.

One of the supervisors, a middle aged blond woman, asks him if he'd be interested in serving as a surrogate alpha. Available for those who wished to use him as a partner. It'd only be a couple hours devoted to each omega, no heat-long partner. They're lower than usual on surrogates this year. Many of the omegas lost their mates and have not moved on enough to find a new one yet, if they ever do at all. As enticing as the offer is, he declines.

Finn ends up going back into heat. A couple days later than the rest of them, but it hits all the same. Clarke, and Raven, return to camp just at the right time. Clarke seems tired but she gives Bellamy an exhausted smile and goes to Finn.

Raven locks herself up in the garage.

Fortunately, Murphy seems spared. Allowed full access to Camp Jaha now, he wanders. Mostly he stays outside in the yard, happy to be outdoors once more.

It passes quickly. There are fewer omegas than there were on the Ark, and they were all kept in such cramp quarters than their synchronization is almost perfect. On the Ark they had been staggered. It might start with one hallway in one station, then move onto the next hallway, then the entire station, then the next station over. By the time the last group had been triggered the first were already over it two weeks past. Down here, on earth, it's less than a week. In four days, tired looking omegas and satisfied omegas begin to drift out into the hallways, seeking food and showers.

When Abby realizes Murphy wasn't going into heat she called him in for a physical. Bellamy stayed where he was, patrolling the hallway, but once Murphy was back safely in his room he took a quick break to visit the medical ward.

“He'll be okay,” she dismisses his inquiry.

“What's wrong with him?”

“He went through a full cycle, unbred, just a couple months ago,” she explained tiredly. “His body isn't ready to go through such an ordeal again. It's a lot harder on them than just getting bred for a couple straight days.”

“What about next year? He's still fertile, right?”

“I'm sure he'll be back on track by then.”

Good, a lot can happen in a year.

* * *

 

Jaha loses the chancellorship again in the general vote, but the new omega policy stays under Abby's call. All the omegas are free to go wherever they wish, as long as they don't try to leave the gates of Camp Jaha. They are not allowed to go on hunting trips.

Abby won't hurt Murphy though. She's too soft-hearted when it comes to omegas. She just wants to protect them.

Clarke wants him to infiltrate Mount Weather. She says she has a plan, and it involves the grounders. Octavia had returned a couple days after Clarke, grabbed her and pulled her after her back into the woods, and then returned again with Lincoln in tow. He looked like shit. Sort of like one of those junkies Bellamy had seen sometimes on the Ark. The ones who got floated for stealing medicine.

“Can you be ready in three days?” she asks him. She doesn't ask him if he'll do it. Just when. She's so much stronger than him. A real leader.

He envies her.

“Yeah, I can be ready by then,” he agrees. “Let me come with you.”

“They don't trust you,” she disagrees. “The grounders are matriarchal. They wouldn't speak to me if you come as my second.”

She takes Octavia instead. They already know Octavia and they do trust her. As much as they trust any of them, anyway.

 

He first notices something weird is going on with Jaha when he and Murphy start talking. He probably would've noticed it before, if he had cared enough to, but Jaha isn't that interesting. Now that Abby is in control, Bellamy has lost interest in Jaha.

But Jaha is trying to get people to follow him. Not as chancellor, but as something else. He's speaking of something called the City of Light.

“And where is this City of Light?” Bellamy asks him, condescending.

“I don't know exactly. But I'll find it and come back for our people.”

“Uh huh.”

He sounds like a quack. Like one of those people that used to worship the Last Tree up on the Ark. Bellamy knows enough about ancient religions for this to not go over his head. How many crazy men have preached salvation over the years?

No, Jaha is just another fanatic looking for answers. But, and here's the big but, he has started talking to Murphy. And he calls him John.

Nobody calls him John. Fuck, for the first week they were dating, Bellamy hadn't even realized that Murphy wasn't his first name. It'd grown out of his friendship with Mbege. Two Johns. It would've been unfair for only one of them to get to use his given name so they had both started going by their last when they were together, and eventually when they were apart.

But Jaha is calling him John.

“John, come sit with me.”  
“John, eat your greens, they're good for you.”

“John, read this book. I think it'll speak to you.”

“John, come walk around the yard with me.”

“John, tell me what is troubling you.”

For some reason that use of his first name pisses Bellamy off. Where does Jaha get off using that level of intimacy with his mate? And what pisses him off even more? Murphy seems to like it. He does do whatever Jaha tells him, even eating his sauteed dandelion greens, which is something he would never have done for Bellamy.

It's probably something to do with Wells. He realizes that early on. Jaha misses his son and Murphy is, like his son, a young male omega. He probably is trying to “save” him or some bullshit like that; how he hadn't been able to “save” his own son. Well, it's Jaha's own fucking fault he sent his son to this shitty planet to die. Not Bellamy's. And certainly not Murphy's.

Jackson teaches him how to meditate. He think it's stupid at first, he has so many other things he could be doing, but it helps with his anger issues over the situation. At least for short bouts. Jackson assures him it'll help more the better he gets at it.

And then, one morning, Bellamy walks by Murphy in the hall and doesn't even realize it's him. He's holding a book in his hand as he walks by and he moves to one side, recognizing from his peripheral vision that somebody was there, but not enough to realize who.

He walks past him and it sends a cloud of scent to him and he recognizes that scent. And it cuts through so quickly and deeply specifically because it is a scent he recognizes, one he hasn't smelled in awhile, and one that is _different_ than his own.

Murphy smells different. He smells _unclaimed_.

Bellamy heart jumps into his throat at the same time his stomach drops and there's just this big, black void inside him. Despair.

“Murphy,” he croaks, grabbing him.

“Let go, Bellamy,” he snaps, pulling away. They've done a pretty good job of ignoring each other lately.

“Your smell.”

“What about it?”

“It changed.”

“Yeah, well that happens when your alpha abandons you after awhile. Would be pretty shitty for us if it didn't, wouldn't it?”

Murphy shakes him off and storms down the hallway.

Bellamy feels like his entire world is collapsing. He rushes to his own bedroom and tries to meditate but his breath is coming out quick and uneven and his fingers are tingling and he realizes he's probably having a panic attack.

He goes to medical. Doesn't give a reason why he's panicking but Jackson gives him a mild sedative and tells him to count backwards. It helps with his breathing but that black void is still there.

Jaha is cozying up to Murphy even more now and Bellamy realizes what he's doing. This isn't like Kane. Jaha doesn't want to fuck Murphy. He wants to claim him. As part of his pack. Maybe not as a mate, he may have no interest at all in fucking Murphy, but he wants to own him. And somehow that's so much worse than knowing that Kane was molesting him behind the ship in the middle of the night.

He goes back for more sedatives after the first wear off. Jackson says he can't give him anymore, they're for emergencies, but he tells him about some plant nearby he could try making a tea out of. Kava, he calls it.

Bellamy makes the tea and falls asleep for 14 straight hours. Nobody bothers him. He's been relieved of duty under Abby's orders. Time to get ready for the trip to Mount Weather, though only a handful of people are aware of that fact.

And holy fuck, he has to leave tomorrow. He realizes that when he wakes up at two in the morning, alone with only his own rapid heartbeat to keep him company.

He has to leave tomorrow. And when he returns it's entirely possible that Murphy might smell different again, but not like Bellamy.

This can't be happening. He can't let this happen.

He goes to Murphy's quarters. He pounds on the door like the world is ending, resisting the urge to shout only because he doesn't want to wake up any of his neighbors. Murphy answers the door wearing only a pair of pajama bottoms, his pale chest extremely visible against the darkness of the hallway. His hair is tousled, eyes puffy.

Bellamy pushes him into the room and follows him. He grabs Murphy up in a bear hug and buries his face into his throat and inhales deeply. He had been asleep so long. Long enough for Murphy to have been claimed.

He still smells the same. Unclaimed. Nobody has taken him. Not yet.

“Um, Bellamy?” Murphy clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. “Can I help you with something?”

“Please be mine again,” he blurts out.

“You've got to be kidding.”

“I know I fucked up. We both did. But I can't stand to look at you and think about anybody else having you.”

Murphy pushes against him and Bellamy allows himself to be pushed away from him. Doesn't fight it. He doesn't want to anger Murphy. He wants him to be his.

“That's a really shitty excuse to want to be with me. You reject me for how many months and then the moment my body finally gives up on you then you decide you need me? I deserve to be wanted for who I am, not because you just don't want anybody else to have me.”

“That's what I was saying,” Bellamy objects.

“Why do you always do this shit in the middle of the night anyway?” Murphy rolls his eyes. His pretty eyes. Such a light shade of blue. They would look weird on most people, too translucent, but Murphy has such pale skin that it works on him. Gives him an ethereal glow.

“I woke up and I was alone and I wanted you.”

“Uh huh.”

“I'm leaving tomorrow,” he confesses. He's not supposed to tell anybody about this, technically, but he wants Murphy to know. “I'm going to Mount Weather. I might not return.”

“I'll drink a cup of moonshine at your funeral for you if you don't come back,” Murphy drawls with a little side smirk.

“I can't go if you're not mine again. I can't leave you here and let, and let Jaha take you.”

“Well, Clarke is going to be pretty disappointed when she shows up and you tell her no, isn't she?” the smaller boy asks, walking to the door. He opens it wide and waves a hand through, indicating he wants Bellamy to leave.

“Can I sleep here tonight?”

“Can you-no you can't sleep here tonight? Are you insane? Get out of my room.”

Bellamy looks out the door. At the dim, cold hallway. Then he looks around him. At Murphy's small bed. At the little table with the lamp on it, glowing homey with a book beside it. It makes him happy to know Murphy's reading. Makes him feel like a proud father. Bellamy always tried to get him to take up reading.

Then he notices what Murphy is reading. _Where the Red Fern Grows_. A good book. A great book. Bellamy had read it several times in his life.

But he had seen Jaha carrying that book in his hand this morning. Casually, lying against his outer right thigh, as he was talking to one of the adults outside by the crops.

Something of Jaha's is in Murphy's room. That's basically the same thing as having Jaha himself in Murphy's room.

And Bellamy is being told to leave.

He loses it. He slams the door shut. Murphy jumps at the sudden loud noise, obviously surprised by Bellamy's actions.

Then Bellamy grabs Murphy. He smashes his lips into Murphy's, kissing him. The boy doesn't respond. Doesn't even push him. He's frozen. Bellamy moves his hands up to the boy's head, grabs him by the soft hair above his ears, and kisses him even harder, holding him in place.

Murphy responds. He pushes back. He's trying to shove Bellamy off of him and he's screaming against Bellamy's lips, his voice muffled.

He's being too loud. Bellamy grabs a piece of cloth, which ends up being one of Murphy's shirts, off of the bed and shoves it into Murphy's mouth, muffling him. Murphy is still fighting him. Luckily he has a pair of tie handcuffs on him, all guards carry them even when not on duty. He manages to wrench Murphy's arms behind his back and secure them.

Murphy looks furious. His face is red, his hair is falling over his eyes, and he's still screaming up a storm behind the gag. He's trying to tackle Bellamy but he's keeping him arm's length.

Bellamy will make sure Jaha can't claim him. It won't be permanent, but it will work until he gets back from Mount Weather.

He shoves Murphy onto the mattress, onto his stomach, and climbs on top of him. Murphy kicks against him so Bellamy places his own legs over his, pinning them beneath him. With his hands cuffed there isn't much else he can do.

Bellamy uses both his hands. He places one on the side of Murphy's head and the other on his shoulder. He pulls them apart, widening the gap between his shoulder and throat and he hears Murphy shout something that sounds like “No!”

He bites down. Hard. The skin there is soft and white. The muscle there stands out against the hallow of his throat. Murphy jerks in pain beneath him but Bellamy doesn't let up. He sinks his teeth in further. It's like biting into something frozen. You just need to give it a moment. It'll give.

Bellamy tastes blood.

He gives it another few seconds before he pulls back. There are profound teeth marks at the juncture of Murphy's throat and shoulder.

The taste of blood has made him go hard. And why not? Wouldn't that just cement this further?

He climbs off of Murphy and pulls him over to the side of the bed, leaving him half hanging off it. Murphy kneels as if he's praying before sleep.

The soft pajama bottoms are pulled down easily and he's wearing nothing beneath. Murphy's pale ass all but glows in the dark.

He's seen it before but not often. Never like this. Never in a sexual way.

Murphy isn't in heat. He needs something. Bellamy considers using just spit but knows that isn't enough. He spots a bottle on Murphy's bedside stand. Some sort of ointment. He picks it up and reads the hand-written label on it. Scar reduction cream?

Bellamy looks down at Murphy's back. Really looks. Sees the criss-crossed lines cutting across him. The work of the grounders. Who could have been helping Murphy apply that ointment to his back?

Jaha? Here? In this room?

Bellamy leans back over him and bites him again. Same place but not exact. A different angle, the marks overlapping. This one isn't at hard. Doesn't bleed. But he still tastes blood from the last bite. He laps at it.

He feels wetness dripping on his face. He reaches up and feels Murphy's cheek. Tears. He's crying. Bellamy wipes his face for him, both sides, and then dries his hands off in Murphy's hair.

Bellamy will make this good for him. He puts some of the ointment onto his fingers, testing it, making sure it doesn't sting or have alcohol. It feels smooth and cool like lotion. He spreads it over his two fingers and reaches back to shove them up into Murphy's ass.

He jumps. Tries to pull away. Murphy is tight and clenching and Bellamy has to push hard to get his fingers in him.

“Relax,” Bellamy tells him. “It'll hurt more if you keep clenching, you should know that.”

Murphy stills beneath him and Bellamy feels him trying to take deep breaths. Calming himself, probably. The breath sounds wet and clogged. He can't help but worry for the boy. If his nose is clogged he won't be able to breathe, with the gag in his mouth. Good thing his nose isn't tiny. It used to get in the way of their kisses.

He fits a third finger inside him. That one goes in more easily, now that Murphy is consciously trying to not clench. His own pants take longer to remove. Belt, buttons, zipper. They're tighter on him than Murphy's bottoms had been on him and he has to tug at them to get them far enough down to free himself. He grips himself by the base of his cock, he's leaking, and he aligns himself.

Murphy makes another muffle scream as he pushes in. It sounds more pained than angry. So Bellamy gives him a minute, kisses the back of Murphy's neck and nuzzles the soft hair at the the base of his neck.

He starts slow and shallow. Keeping his hand around his own cock he only pushes as far in as he can until his own fist blocks him. Murphy wiggles beneath him, trying to get away, still making those horrible, painful groans. Only when he stills and just lies there, unmoving, does Bellamy release his dick and start thrusting in fully. Again, he's slow, letting Murphy get used to the feeling of him. He pushes in slowly, deeply, until he bottoms out and his chest is pressed flat against Murphy's back. He kisses his ear.

“I love you,” he whispers into the damp shell. “We'll be together for real this time.”

Then he pulls out, pushes back in. Repeat. A little harder, a little faster, every time. Until he's pounding hard into his mate and the sound of their skin slapping against each other fills the room. It's a wet, meaty sound, like a steak being thrown onto a cutting board.

The angle is odd. The bed is too low and the strain starts to wear on Bellamy's thighs. He pulls back, almost sitting on his ankles, and pulls Murphy back against him, onto him. This angle feels better. Deeper. Murphy doesn't try to fight him. Allows himself to be fucked onto Bellamy's cock like he's some hyper realistic sex toy.

He bites at his throat again. The other side this time. Sees the wince on Murphy's white face in the dim glow of the bedside table.

When Bellamy comes he pulls Murphy onto his lap entirely and holds him there, holds him down. He feels small and damp with sweat in his arms. He squeezes him tightly around the waist, burying his face in Murphy's hair, and groans into the locks. His cock twitches deep inside him, filling him up with him cum.

Murphy doesn't make a sound. Bellamy notices he is hard, too, but when Bellamy unties his hands he does nothing to fix that. He just sinks off of Bellamy's lap onto the floor after the gag has been removed and kneels there, eyes downcast. His cum is leaking out of him.

Bellamy sits behind him, breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath. He can still feel the orgasm thrumming through his body.

The boy pulls away when Bellamy goes to help him onto the bed. He picks him up anyway, carefully lays him there. Considers climbing in beside him.

Decides against it.

He goes to the door, but he doesn't leave. He leans against it, blocking anybody from coming, or leaving. It's a long time before he dozes off.

* * *

 

Murphy isn't awake when Bellamy leaves the next morning. Either that, or he's faking being asleep. He slips out, hopefully unnoticed, and goes to shower.

He passes by Raven awhile later, on the way to breakfast, and she does a double take.

“You uh, you two patch things up then?”

His smell must have already changed. He hadn't noticed.

Murphy's already at the table, un-showered, reeking of sex. His throat is covered in deep bruises and there's some blood on the collar.

Bellamy stays away from him. He doesn't want to make a scene. Not here.

Clarke comes to him in his room as he's packing up for the trip. They'll be leaving in just a couple more hours. He wants to be ready to go, but he needs to see Murphy one more time before he heads out.

“What did you do to him?”

“I re-claimed him.”

“He looks like he was mauled by a bear.”

“Yeah, well, I had to make sure it stuck. I'll be ready in a few. Did you bring enough rations?”

She answered in the affirmative and went to spend the last free time she had with her mate. So Bellamy did the same.

He finds Murphy in the yard. He's with Jaha and they're packing up to go somewhere.

Bellamy still feels that jealous tinge there, but he looks at the bruises peppering the papery skin of his mate. Feels proud of his work.

“Murphy, can we talk for a minute?”

“Can't,” he says, voice completely devoid of emotion. “I'm taking Jaha to the drop ship. He wants to see Wells' grave.”

Yeah, that makes sense. Not many of the delinquents left around to give him the full tour.

“I just wanted to make sure you're good. I mean, it was good, right? You enjoyed it?”

Murphy turns to look at him, eyes more defeated looking than Bellamy has ever seen on a person. He doesn't look angry. He looks dead.

“Good? You raped me. What do you want? Congratulations? Good job. Way to be a stand up alpha. Sorry if I don't have a medal to pin to your chest.”

“I didn't hurt you,” Bellamy objects. “I made sure you were ready. It's not like you've never had a dick up the ass before.”

“One dick. And Jasper's not exactly a behemoth in that department.”

“But Kane-”

“Was only ever interested in my mouth. Again, congratulations. You're the first guy to have his dick inside me when I'm not in heat.”

Bellamy has to consciously stop from grinning. He knew Murphy wasn't exactly happy about any of this but honestly, that fact did make him happy. He did feel like congratulating himself.

“John,” Jaha's voice came from one side. Just as a “Bellamy” came from the other. Clarke appeared there, at his side, pack ready. “We're heading out early, just got word. You ready?”

“John,” Jaha's voice spoke again. “Come on, we're ready, let's go.”

Bellamy turns to Murphy once more. Saw him looking at him, corners of his mouth slightly turned down. Bellamy bends down to kiss one of those corners.

“We'll talk when I get back,” Bellamy says. “I promise, I'll take care of you this time. We'll make a great pack.”

Murphy turns and leaves through the gates without a second glance back.

* * *

 

'Cause you never really know  
When the whistle's gonna blow  
You never really know  
Easy come and easy go

-Easy Come, Easy Go  
The Decemberists

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin.
> 
> I was thinking of doing another longfic but eh. We'll see.


End file.
